


Like a Movie

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band), NCT dream (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, But mostly angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, Soulmates, after life AU, i take no responsability for those, look out for that MCD warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24706312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jeno is a script-writer for the After Life Co., a company tasked with creating personal heavens for every soul that crosses their doors- but creating heaven for a soul who has never known true happiness on earth is probably the third biggest challenge Jeno has ever faced, second is allowing himself to hold, first is accepting that he has to let go.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 39





	1. Origin

**Author's Note:**

> I obsessed over the idea of writing something like this after watching Hirokazu Koreda's masterpiece After Life and I didn't manage to make it justice, obviously, but it's something. Of course, it's not necessary to understand the story, but watching the movie is still something I'd definitely recommend.

“Jeno”

He hears the sound of the crisp knocks before he hears the equally crisp voice coming from the other side. It’s the electric kind of sound that he has come to expect from his friend and it work like a charm to snap his head back into reality, eyes focused again. 

He’s sitting on an old chair that doesn’t help with his already terrible posture and his eyes sting when he tries to blink enough time to adjust himself to the dim lights, only one light bulb dangling on top of his head that Jeno turned off before playing the movie in the old projector he had brought into the room long ago. 

The room is too small for his lanky legs, cramped with shelves where disks and memory cards are stored in case the short films inside of them are ever needed. 

“Jeno” The voice becomes louder, more impatient. The knocks stop having pauses in between them. “You’ve been there all day, c’mon.”

On the screen, there’s a hero that sacrifices everything for his family, and is given the best reward when he gets to meet them all again on the other side of the golden bridge. The hero is crying and Jeno feels his throat closing up a little, most probably out of fake thirst.

“I heard you.” He says, but he stays seated, squinting his eyes at the line of credits, white lettering over a dark background like it was customary a couple decades ago until the familiar name of Lee Minhyung slides thought the screen before he cracks his fingers in top his head and gets up to slide the door open. “Hello, Junnie” 

Renjun’s eyes widen in surprise, fist still hanging in the air when Jeno gives him a taunting smile.

“You’re such a nuisance.” His friend rolls his eyes, already turning to walk away and back into the hall where he probably came from. 

“Don’t you like me just the way I am, Renjunnie?”

“Not really.” 

Renjun is shorter than Jeno, smaller in frame, with big eyes that seem to carry the glossiness of pity that people who don’t know him quickly fall for. Renjun is quick and witty, edges too sharp when he gets comfortable, snarky comments hidden behind a fake layer of politeness. He likes Jeno a bit too much to pretend to be sweet around him and Jeno carries this fact on his chest as if it’s something to be proud of.

They’re walking side by side and Jeno makes a point of clinging to Renjun’s arm just to annoy him a bit further. The doors they pass are all closed, probably locked too despite the fact that anyone who works for the company is allowed inside every room on the building. 

His eyes follow one of the paintings hanging on the white walls in between each door, lots of blue and green, no red in sight. 

“Jeno.” Renjun tugs his arm, still holding on to it despite his complaints.

“Renjun you’ve gotten even meaner these days.” Jeno sighs, speeding up his pace. “And here I thought I was your favorite.” 

“You thought wrong.”

“Mean,” Jeno pouts. “I liked you better when you were scared of me.”

The hallway leads him into the cubicles of the art team. Dozens of desks one next to the other stand in front of the biggest window wall on the entire building, constantly provided with the best natural light for most of the day and specially developed artificial lights for those who work better at night.

Renjun’s work area is on the far left. On good days where all the artists are working their correct shifts, Jeno doesn’t even try to squeeze through the desks to get to Renjun’s, but most people are taking a lunch break right now, so they get to the far left in record time. The floor feels a little sad without the soft noises of pencils sliding over paper.

“Well,” Renjun says, moving his chair. “I was wrong too.” He sits. 

Renjun’s desk is a complete juxtaposition of his usually overly organized self: papers and small sketches scattered around mindlessly; pencils, dry paint, and a couple brushes that have probably seen better days. Jeno has always found it amusing how his polished and perfectly serene friend has to sit behind a mess of art materials that he doesn’t seem to find time to organize, every day for endless hours at a time. 

“They need you on the fourth floor, by the way.”

A pause.

“You could have started from there!” Jeno whines, and flees for the stairs.

The indoor sets take the entirety of the fourth floor, divided into sections that allow for more than one project to be happening at once. It’s productive and efficient, but it makes the entire floor feel restricted even with all of that space, loud, rushes.

Jeno pushes himself in with his head already lowered in a slight bow. “Hello.” He greets the small groups of people he comes across, but mostly, he only gets tiny nods back as acknowledgment. 

“Oh? Jen, you’re here!” Taeyong is different. 

Taeyong is older and wiser, gentle in nature even with the people he’s allowed to be harsher with and only serious and imposing when he’s trying to make scenes work. 

He’s a good director, has an eye for mistakes that would usually go unnoticed. He’s clean and his movies are sublime in the way they transform each description of the script into a melody that harmonizes with the dialogue and the characters. He plays with lights and movements. He catches mistakes where they’re usually impossible to see.

Jeno doesn’t feel bad about accepting Taeyong's affection the way he does from most elders, mostly because Taeyong seems to be a warm person with most people in general. He receives a small screen filled with lines that help adjust the frame while shooting and lets Taeyong put an arm around his shoulders as they both watch in silence.

The scene is probably one of the final ones: a secondary character is the main focus and, behind him, a flock of doves take flight before the man carefully turns around to search for something he can’t quite see yet. 

He’s wearing a long coat and the camera zooms into his sad eyes until the whole screen is consumed by his deep black pupils. 

“What do you think so far?” Taeyong whispers right into his ear and Jeno blinks, startled.

“It’s… great, as usual. It’s exactly what I saw.” Jeno falters and Taeyong smiles. 

Despite his older age and position, Taeyong still acts young and playful, cute around those who are older than him and, much like Jeno himself, he thrives under the praise of others. 

“I feel especially good about this one, Jeno.”

“It’s a really good one.” Jeno quickly agrees with a gentle smile of his own. “She’s… She’s going to a good place.” He adds, and then cringes at his own choice of words.

Taeyong smiles that sad smile of his that Jeno only sees when he has said exactly what he isn’t supposed to. 

Not many people talk about death in the building, ironically. Even the mention of what happens after the new entries leave the building has always been considered a bit of a taboo. It feels wrong to even think about it, when it’s probably the most unfair part of being there: some people come in peacefully, having lived long and meaningful lives; others are not so lucky.

They’re only here to make movies for them and guide them to eternity, nothing else. 

Jeno’s job at the company is simple: he reads the books for the new entries, collects the information and then he writes a rough script of what will later be the backbone of a new film. 

Easy. 

Most of the time he doesn't even stick around in the set for longer than necessary, and it’s mainly just because his elders like having him around that he stays rather than because he’s indispensable.

“Sorry.” He mutters and Taeyong shakes his head.

“You’re right, she is going to a good place. Thanks to us. It’s a good thing.”

Jeno runs away in the middle of Taeyong telling the assistants they should do makeup touch-ups and slowly climbs back down to the second floor, only to find Renjun still hasn’t moved from his desk since the last time Jeno saw him. 

He is drawing a storyboard for a movie Jeno doesn’t remember the owner of, so that can only mean he’s a little behind in his work. 

His sketches are rushed, yet detailed enough that it’s easy to tell what the backgrounds and the faces should look like. Renjun has a gift for art, keeps drawing even when he doesn’t need to, and fills Jeno’s notes with little doodles for Jeno to find as he reads.

“I really like this one.” Jeno speaks as he picks up a random portrait that lays forgotten next to Renjun’s chair. It’s a young man with a thin face and a round nose, big ears and hair that softly falls over his forehead in dark waves that look as soft as cotton even in simple black and white. 

“Uh?” Renjun stops sketching and turns to Jeno and then to the piece of paper he’s holding. “Dong… uh, Sicheng. Last week’s. It was Hyunjin’s case.” 

“We don’t get that many Chinese ones.” Jeno remarks, just because he wants to have something to talk about, an excuse to stay close to Renjun for a little while. “Or, we do, but you know-” 

“I guess,” Renjun cuts in, distracted. He moves to a new page and draws the blocks for the storyboard without a ruler. “He overdosed, so I guess this is really not the best place to meet fellow Chinese folks.”

“Mhm.” Jeno hums, but then he feels his face slowly distorting. 

He opens his mouth to ask, but then Renjun sighs before Jeno can even get a word out. 

“Sorry. I’m a bit stressed. They want these for… yesterday, I guess, but Seungyoon is getting punished for breaking the rules so they want me to do it instead. As if I didn’t have work of my own.”

“Seungyoon?” Jeno frowns a little and thinks about the face of the gentle Seungyoon he remembers so well, long messy locks and clear eyes that crease into thin lines over his high bone cheeks when he smiles. “That’s gonna take him a while to shake off, the higher-ups have such high expectations for him.”

“He’s a better artist too,” Renjun complains as he runs a dirty hand down his face. “Sorry I’m being an ass, this is a lot.”

“It’s okay.”

He leaves the paper on the table this time. Sicheng glares back at him with something Jeno can’t quite read and he wonders what his happy memory is, what’s behind a simple case of OD and tired eyes that scream for something Jeno can’t give. 

“I have a lot to read too, so I’ll be on my way.”

“Right.” Renjun lets his eyes linger on Jeno for a bit longer than usual. It’s more than stress, Jeno can tell, but he doesn’t press. “Of course, yeah. See you later then.”

It’s not entirely a lie, Jeno still has a small pile of books to finish so he takes a detour back to the storage room and closes the door behind him with a key he shouldn’t own, but does because Doyoung, the storage manager, adores him. 

He knows of people who read in the library where it’s quiet; their rooms while their roommates work somewhere else in the building, maybe even the building gardens just so they can use the natural light- but Jeno usually prefers the places that feel the most familiar yet are bound to go unnoticed by most people. It’s almost a guarantee that he won’t be interrupted. 

He sits on his uncomfortable chair and simply lets himself start with the book that’s on top of his pile, he has no time to get picky about what covers look the most enticing, for now.

Some stories are long and complicated, details that Jeno is doomed to forget the moment he moves on to the next book. Some others are short, so short in fact that Jeno feels his chest ache with the knowledge that they didn’t live for long enough. 

There are books with cool designs on the covers, and some with plain colors; books where the font is harshly scribbled and ones where the cursive is so delicate it’s almost hard to read. 

The books, much like the characters they talk about, are unique, completely different from one and other.

Jeno writes notes on a new journal this time, his old ones have their pages filled to the brim and the covers have started to lose their color. He always starts with names and bullet points because that’s what works best for him, but he knows Seungmin usually starts with a map and Hyejin likes to make doodles. Writers are also unique, in a way.

He manages to read half of his first book before he grows bored, so he picks up a small one with blue covers and a black spine, not many details that stand out at first sight, the handwriting is a bit messy but nothing worse than what Jeno has had to put himself through before.

There’s nothing special about the blue book, if not for the way its overall plainness makes it stand out in Jeno’s pile which has books of different sizes, all exuding personality right from the cover. The most special thing about it, Jeno discovers, it’s that the first sentence already gives him a headache that makes his head pulse. 

He puts the book back, but now he can’t read anything anymore. It’s odd, but there’s a high chance Jeno is simply missing his glasses.

In the afterlife, things that enhance health and attributes are unnecessary, but most people stick to old habits out of fear of feeling disconnected from their past selves. 

Jeno touches his nose, and decides that he definitely needs his own little token that he kept from his time on earth.

He takes the books back to his room and throws them a little too harshly on top of the desk next to the door, which gains him a raised brow from his roommate, who is already lying on his bed across the room, a book of his own between his fingers that Jeno already knows isn’t the kind they have to read for work.

“I’m not taking those back to the library.” Jisung plainly says. 

Jisung is a couple of centimeters taller than Jeno, besides his younger age. His voice goes deeper than Jeno’s when he tries, but there’s still some baby fat left around his cheeks and his eyes lit up with the kind of innocence he would never be able to shake off, having lived such a short life. It draws Jeno to him, makes him want to put blankets around Jisung and make sure he’s always fine. 

“I didn’t ask you to.” Jeno bites back. “These are the ones I haven’t read yet.”

“Hm?” That seems to catch Jisung’s attention because he puts his book to the side and sits on his bed. “Why? They don’t look too bulky,” He scrunches his nose. 

It’s Tuesday and the new set of books is always distributed first thing in the morning on Mondays. Jeno usually reads at least three books per day. 

“Young people again?”

“I guess.” 

Jeno looks at the books, the blue and black one is at the top now and it almost feels like it’s staring back at Jeno intensely, demanding. 

“Jisung, if I can’t read a book, should I just report it?” It’s not really the question he meant to ask, but it’s something. 

“Yes?” And it sounds like mockery so Jeno frowns.

“I’m serious! I’ve never reported a book before. I always finish my books on time.” He waits for a moment and then, “what happens to the books you report?”

“How would I know?” Jisung snorts and Jeno takes a deep breath.

“How much time do I have before I’m obligated to hand it in?”

“Jeno.” 

Jisung gets up to make his way to Jeno in a couple long strides. He finally looks interested in what Jeno’s saying and it feels like a small victory. 

“You always have trouble with books that come from young people, or people you feel sorry for. Don’t think about it too much. You have all the time in the world, and if you really can’t, well… the option of reporting it is still there. You have a lot of time for that too.”

Jeno looks back at his pile of books. He has five for the week and he has only managed to get through one and a half. 

“I’m not reporting it.” He decides with his eyes still fixed on the blue covers. Jisung blinks at him cutely and then he nods.

“Okay, I’m gonna make sure nobody at the library asks for your returns.”

He writes the drafts for two scripts on Thursday and manages to convince Renjun to let him stay in his dorm so he can check up on him. 

Renjun, like everyone else working at the company, is incapable of getting sick. Even when put under such great amounts of pressure, souls simply don’t possess the physical means to suffer any kind of illness, but he does seem to refuse to pretend like he needs to sleep as everyone else does, so they stay awake for long nights. 

“We can go and watch a movie.” Renjun suggests as they finish putting away another board game.

“We could, but I don’t want to get Doyoung in trouble. He told me to never mess around the storage room during not-working hours.”

“Oh, well.”

“Why?” Jeno moves the box so he can lean in closer. There's no one there to eavesdrop on their conversation, but the late hours make him feel like he has to whisper. “I didn’t know you were so interested in movies. You never want to watch them with me.”

Renjun’s roommate is a sweet girl who is a bit too eager to switch up rooms with Jeno for a couple nights and it’s cute, the way Jisung would blush and pretend to be angry at him for making Yerim stay at their room and Yerim’s excited face every time Jeno would approach her at the hallways before curfew. 

“I’m not.” Renjun puts his hand and Jeno’s face and pushes him away. “I was just suggesting something.”

“I could try to find that guy’s movie if you give me enough time tomorrow.” Jeno promises, standing up to put the game back on its shelf at the top of Renjun’s bed. "Sicheng, you said?"

It’s a suggestion that has no malice behind it, but Jeno knows he’s said the wrong thing when Renjun turns to give him a sour look.

“Or we could watch yours. What was it even about? I actually never asked.”

The person assigned to read Jeno’s book and write his script doesn’t work with them anymore, but Jeno remembers him well because Minhyung had come into his room with big eyes and a stuttering voice, spitting apologies that made no sense and messily explaining that he wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. 

He was almost Jeno’s height and his hair was jet black. He didn’t wear the white hoodie Jeno had seen the other girl wear, just a white tee over a pair of equally white pants, and he also looked a bit too young to even be there. Jeno hadn’t made a comment about it because he was sure that he himself looked a bit too young to be there. 

His expressions were easy to read and the way he spoke Korean made Jeno think he had learned from someone who was way older than him instead of organically getting it from everyone around him.

Minhyung had sat with Jeno and listened carefully. He didn’t mind that Jeno cried and didn’t mind that Jeno wasn’t up to hear much of the stories Minhyung had to tell himself.

“I’ll write a good script for you.” Minhyung had told him that night in Jeno’s room, tears lighting up his large eyes and his voice cracking up at the edges. “The best one.”

And just like Minhyung had promised, the movie had been perfect. 

Jeno had watched it at least three times in a row the day it was released. A fourth one with Minhyung sitting at his right, waiting for a positive response. He had watched it many other times before declining and making the room of people who had worked on the movie fall quiet for a second.

“Okay, sorry about what I said, Renjun.” Jeno says now, feeling his ears start to heat up.

“Oh, oh shit, man. Sorry, sorry, I didn’t- that was a stupid thing to say.”

“Yeah.” Jeno agrees, but he still jumps off the bed and offers Renjun a hand so he can stand up too. “It’s whatever, but if you really want to-”

“No! No, Jeno, of course not. I was being a dick. Forget it.”

They go to bed in silence. Yerim’s bed is softer than Jeno’s, but he still tosses and turns under the covers until Renjun tells him that they can play another game if Jeno isn’t up for trying to force himself to sleep.

By Saturday, he’s done with all of his scripts for the week, except for the one for the blue book.

There had been difficult books before. Jeno has had stories that he simply couldn’t handle at first, stories so long and complicated that he had had to re-read multiple times before making a script. It’s the promise of unknown outcomes that makes his job the most interesting for him, he’s always up for a challenge and he has never let a book beat him to it.

He blames Renjun’s odd behavior on his struggles with the book as he eats dinner alone in his room and decides to give it another try when his head stops aching.

He asks about the book at the library multiple times. To people he has never really talked to and barely knows by name, trying to not reveal too much about his situation, and then to Chenle, who seems to find Jeno’s worries just as funny as Jisung did. 

Nobody really gives him an answer as to why the book is proving to be so hard to read despite its short length, not even some suggestions as to why Jeno’s head throbs with every line he reads and what he can do about it.

He gets rid of his glasses at some point, tosses them to the bottom of his drawer and groans when that doesn’t seem to change anything.

In the end, it takes Jeno exactly two weeks and three days to finish the blue book, the longest he has ever had a book with him and he’s exhausted by the time he finally closes it while lying on his bed, face up.

“Oh, you’re done with that one,” Jisung observes from the other side of the room as he types away on his phone. “I’ll tell Chenle in the morning.”

“Yeah.” Jeno breathes out. His stomach dances uncomfortably inside of his belly. “Make sure he’s the only one that hears about it.”

Jisung falls asleep a couple hours later, phone tossed over his night table and head hidden under his thick comforter. Jeno stays up, quietly examining his next plan as he waits for the morning to start again.

The moment the sun is out, he’s also out of his room. 

“Aw, isn’t it out little Jeno?” 

Donghyuck is Jeno’s age. He’s also a bit shorter than him, face rounder, voice more high pitched. He finds it hilarious to pester Jeno, especially when it comes to their different rank positions in the company, but Jeno doesn’t feel like humoring him today, he’s fidgety and jumpy, can only let out a strangled chuckle at Hyuck’s teasing. 

“Cute little Jeno Lee, shouldn’t you be writing some scripts? I heard you haven’t turned in a-”

“Hey.” Jeno interrupts. Donghyuck has a way with words and it’s easy for him to take over any conversation without letting others speak. Jeno appreciates his communication abilities most of the time, but he’s in a hurry today. “Are the new entries still in their rooms?”

He looks around, the marble desk that is almost the same length as the entire back wall, delicately carved and polished to shine almost as brightly as the equally marble floors do; the high ceilings and the big front doors that are currently being cleaned by a pair of janitors in green uniforms. Everything around the first floor feels like a familiar nightmare that he would rather forget.

He hides his hands inside of the pocket of his hoodie and stops his foot from tapping the floor.

It isn’t about Donghyuck himself really, Jeno’s been friends with him since the beginning. He’s witty and funny, always knows how to lighten up the mood no matter how gloomy things are, and he cares a bit too much about others to the point where he makes it a personal mission to have everyone like him. 

He’s a good fit for the first floor because of that: he cares. He keeps an everlasting smile on his face and leads the newcomers to their rooms as he breezily explains everything in a way that makes it sound easy.

“Well, yes, of course. It’s their first day, they’re still… under the weather, you know?” Donghyuck shrugs and Jeno swallows. The more he stares, the more he remembers his first time there and it gives him nothing but the feeling he shouldn’t be there in the first place.

“I need to see one of them. Not the newer ones. I need one that should have gotten his movie done… a couple days ago.” His words get mushed together and he’s stuttering, but Donghyuck still catches everything. 

He gives Jeno an odd look, sizes him up as if trying to make sure Jeno is in fact himself and not some spy trying to take his place.

“Jeno, are you okay?” 

Donghyuck cares, maybe a bit too much to be working on this building altogether.

“Yes.” Jeno lies, but he still lets Donghyuck pet his hair and grip his shoulder. 

“You can tell me.” Donghyuck whispers, dragging Jeno further away from the janitors. 

Jeno looks back over his shoulder and shallow the lump forming on his throat. It feels like he holds the biggest secret in town between his lips and the idea just makes him even more anxious. Donghyuck is a loyal friend, loud and annoying, but never one to betray any of them, so Jeno feels a little better just knowing he can let some of the weight fall on Donghyuck’s shoulders.

“Na Jaemin. I’m in charge of his script and it’s taking me too long to come up with a script. Let me see him.” Jeno begs, voice so small not even himself can quite hear it. 

Donghyuck leans back, his expression hard to read and his fingers drumming the marble of the big desk. 

“Na Jaemin.” He repeats, and Jeno feels a shiver down his spine again. It’s different when someone else says the name, it makes it feel real. Jaemin is real and he’s somewhere here, on the same floor as them. “What is it with him?”

Jeno thinks of a lie. He’s not a good liar, but he’s good at hiding information to get what he wants. He can be cunning and witty, smart and reserved, it’s just easier to tell the truth and then apologize later, if necessary. 

He’s already got something when Donghyuck gives him those worried eyes that he never usually has, the ones that tell Jeno he’s starting to worry too much. 

“There are no happy memories in his book.”

He fishes Jaemin’s book from the inside pocket of his white hoodie and hands it to his friend as proof.

“There’s nothing.” He tries again. “It’s not gonna get a script approved if I can’t get a single line in.” And he sounds panicked, a little out of air. Donghyuck makes a point of scanning the pages quickly, without actually reading a single line and then he gives Jeno another one of his puppy looks. 

To get a script approved, it has to go through at least three sets of higher-ups from the top floor. The books are quickly re-read, the scripts are analyzed and searched for a connection with the books they represent. They’re corrected if necessary and only when they've passed all the tests, are they finally sent back to start production. 

Jeno has never had one of his scripts rejected.

“Promise you won’t tell anybody,” Donghyuck whispers again and Jeno rolls his eyes, impatient. He feels so on edge he knows a simple breeze could throw him off.

“Hyuck, when my scriptwriter went into my room nobody got in trouble. I know what I’m doing.”

There’s a moment where Donghyuck’s eyes shift with something more somber. He stands a bit straighter and the soft sounds around the two of them seem to die down. 

Jeno frowns, but just as quick as it came, it’s gone. Donghyuck looks away.

“Room 104.”

Jeno hesitates for a second, anxious, but Donghyuck isn’t looking at him, so he runs to round the corner and right into yet another hall without even saying thank you.

The hallway of rooms always feels endless. Its design makes it so it mostly resembles a long labyrinth that only Donghyuck and the rest of the first floor workers know how to navigate. It usually works to throw curious souls off the idea of exploring the first floor to their heart's content, but Jeno still hears a couple muffled voices as he makes his way around the first couple necks. 

It’s only dumb luck that the door he’s looking for isn’t far from the main corridor.

He stands still. 

Room 104. 

His palms are sweaty and it’s a little hard to breathe. 

He raises his hand, but before he knocks, he starts thinking about what to say. The things he has to explain and what is better to let out so Jaemin won’t be too freaked out. He thinks about Minhyung’s soft and stuttery voice and how he also broke the rules when he decided to visit Jeno in his room and stay with him until the next morning. 

He thinks, too much maybe, and then the door opens before he’s ready. 

“Hello?”

Jeno has never talked to one of the entries before, no matter how confusing their books could be. Everything feels brand new with him.

He knows about people in general, maybe, has read everything about them, their secrets, their deepest desires, and needs. He has learned how to read the patterns so well that he now knows what to expect after reading only a couple lines. 

Love, hate, envy, greed, and fear; humans are all the same for him, yet Na Jaemin seems to carry something that has Jeno shaking in front of his door, he can’t make sense of him and it’s driving him crazy.

He looks up, at a pair of honey eyes, and he’s left speechless.

The Jaemin that stands in front of him is nothing like the Jaemin he read about in the blue book: auburn hair and dashing smile, a polite bow, his voice small and sweet. 

He’s leaning against the frame of the door and his clothes look like they still belong to the world of the living, a big sweater and skinny jeans that hug his long legs just the right way. He’s not taller than Jeno, but the way he stands: confidently, and with his chest puffed out a little, long elegant neck, could almost be confused as cocky, makes him look gigantic to Jeno’s eyes. 

This Jaemin looks like he doesn’t know the taste of sadness and death, and that scares Jeno a lot more than he’d like to admit.

He blinks a couple of times and Jaemin tilts his head a little, confused, maybe amused, too.

“Uhm, hey.” Jeno blinks, and Jaemin’s smile becomes softer, more cheeky. “Lee Jeno.” He introduces himself.

“Na Jae-”

“I know.” 

God does he know.

“Well, that wasn’t creepy at all.” 

Jaemin laughs and it sounds like music. A lost yet familiar memory. Everything about Jaemin feels as tensly familiar as the first floor. 

“Come on in, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin steps inside and signals Jeno to do the same. “I haven’t had any visitors yet so I was actually feeling a bit lonely, you know?”

The room is small, can barely fit the twin size bed and the small desk placed on the far back, but the windows give Jaemin a perfect view of the back fields: endless green that's only cut by the beginning of a forest full of pine trees. There are other trees before the forest begins, trees older than time itslef and small sets of tables strategically put under their shade. The sun illuminates the flowers and the grass until their colors seem painted in glossy oil and small animals that can only be seen with a sharp eye. 

“What brings you here, Lee Jeno?” Jaemin questions, polite yet pert. Every word he says drips something Jeno can’t quite taste, second intentions he can’t read yet, and it’s electrifying. 

“Has- Has anyone explained the thing about movies and books to you yet?” 

They don’t really talk about any rules, in the end, because Jaemin ogling feels a little too heavy on his chest where his heart is pounding a little too fast and it makes Jeno’s face lit up like a bonfire; but Jeno does manage to get most of the important points across before Jaemin sighs and starts walking around the room mindlessly.

Jeno doesn’t get to the part where Jaemin’s book is defective, but that can wait.

“Is anyone suffering because of me?” Jaemin asks breezily. It seems to be the only question he hadn’t asked anyone yet and it makes Jeno’s chest ache again. “On earth, I mean.”

Jeno hums.

“I have no idea.”

Jaemin snorts. “Fair enough.”

“Don’t ask me about your death.” 

“Wasn’t going to.”

“Aren’t you curious?” 

Jeno finally resolves on letting himself fall back on the mattress and focus his attention on the white ceiling, anything to stop himself from staring. 

“Of course.” 

Jaemin starts walking again, slowly, Jeno can almost imagine him going to every corner of the room and feeling the walls with his hands, picking on the old paint, looking for something that probably isn’t there. 

“But I think it’s better if I don’t know.”

“You’re smarter than most, then.”

Jaemin’s questions are easier to answer after that. He asks about the building and Jeno’s job, the routine and the people that work there. He’s curious about the movies and he seems to know a lot about cameras since he’s mostly interested in that part of the filming process. 

He tells Jeno bits and pieces of the memories he still has and Jeno confesses he doesn’t really have any from his time on earth with a sad smile. Jaemin doesn’t press. 

Jaemin, in fact, seems to catch on to Jeno's silent messages very quickly. He knows how to change the subject and when to stay silent until Jeno is done speaking. He listens with the interest of a curious child and makes little noises to let Jeno know he understood everything when Jeno looks back at him to make sure Jaemin heard him. It’s endearing.

Donghyuck bounces into the room without knocking in the middle of Jaemin explaining why he’d like his movie to have no colors and for it to be filmed in tracking shots to give the illusion of a first-person point of view, and Jeno opening his mouth to protest about it since the team designated to make the costumes is actually very good at choosing beautifully colored fabrics that tell stories of their own, and that is without even mentioning the hard work of the scenography team. 

“Hello, lovebirds. Sorry to interrupt whatever it was that you were doing, but my supervisor is coming over to pick you guys up for a meeting or something.” He points at Jaemin with a pair of finger guns and Jaemin blinks in surprise. “So, Jeno, buddy, you might have to jump off the window or something.” 

He smiles brightly, but he’s breathing heavily and Jeno panics the moment the words set in.

“Dude, what?” Jeno jumps off the bed and makes his way to the window in only a couple long strides. “Kun will have my head, couldn’t you’ve just texted me?”

“Who’s Kun?” Jaemin asks but, for once, Jeno isn’t listening.

“You weren’t answering my texts!”

“You guys have phones? Phones in heaven…” Jaemin speaks up again, this time to no one in particular. 

“Well, call me then!” Jeno sighs and then gives Jaemin one final look before he climbs through the open window and off the room. It's probably the first time since he first came that he's thankful to be on the first floor instead of any of the top ones. “I’ll see you around, Na Jaemin.”

“For sure.” 

And the gagging sounds Donghyuck lets out are not enough to distract Jeno from the final toothy grin Jaemin gives him before waving goodbye. 

He lets Chenle and Jisung tease him about his obsession with Jaemin’s book during lunch the next day. Usually Jeno tries his best to keep Jisung in line when it comes too respecting his elders, but there’s really not much point to it when he’s around Chenle and the both of them enhance each other’s bad behavior. 

They seem to relent only when they understand Jeno is not going to react to their jokes the same way he usually does and Jisung even gives him a piece of candy at the end of the day, as they brush their teeth over the sink of their shared bathroom.

It’s an apology and Jeno feels too bad about making Jisung worry to try and get more insight on what the library people are saying about Jeno’s late returns.

Jeno is distracted for the days to come, even as Renjun shows him his story lines for a movie Jeno couldn’t really remember the plot of, howbeit if he had received the approved version of the script. 

“I met him the other day.” Renjun finally says, giving up on getting Jeno’s input on his work. “The blue book kid that everyone’s talking about?”

“Everyone’s talking about him?” Jeno panics. “Why?”

“Uh, he’s hot.” Renjun says, like it’s obvious and then he has the decency of blushing. “I mean, the girls are going around saying that. He’s cool, Jeno, he offered me coffee and everything.”

“Cool?”

“Listen, I’m just saying, whatever it is that is taking you so long to be done with his script is none of my business, but there’s a lot more to your job than that Jaemin kid. So, let’s try again. Here, tell me if the backgrounds look good or if I should change anything.”

Jeno grabs the papers from Renjun with a frown. He hasn’t had the chance to see Jaemin around much, but he has heard the rumors about him always smiling to everyone and offering help or food every chance he gets.

“Right. Sorry.”

“You can tell me about it, if there’s anything I can help with? Maybe we can tell the higher-ups if there’s anything-”

“No, no, Junnie, it’s cool. It’s all good. Really.”

Jaemin likes fresh strawberries with whipped cream and chocolate the most, Jeno finds out later that week. 

He also finds out that Jaemin isn’t one to wait for the desserts to actually be done, as he doesn’t hesitate before openly picking up and eating the freshly cut strawberries from the basket waiting next to the kitchen door; and of course it’s Jeno the one that finds him in the act while looking for a nice quiet place to write. 

He smiles at him with his hands full of fruit and Jeno stares for an embarrassingly long amount of time before he bends down to grab Jaemin by the arm and pull him away from the kitchen’s backdoor. 

“I think you guys just need to take a chill pill.” Jaemin huffs before throwing the last piece of strawberry right into his open mouth. “I mean, someone’s gonna eat them anyways. What’s the point if they’re not gonna be eaten fresh and sweet as God commanded?” 

“Jaemin, just- don’t steal food, okay? I’ll buy you food.” Jeno frowns. “Actually, you’re still an entry. You get free food the same way most workers do, so why are you stealing?”

“Where’s the fun in just... getting the food delivered to me without any action?”

Jeno doesn’t mean to take Jaemin on a tour across the building when he’s sure Jaemin has already been to every corner he is allowed in. He doesn’t mean to spend more time with Jaemin when he could be trying to write a script, but Jaemin talks too much when he’s invested in something, no matter how mundane, and Jeno is trapped in the small space between Jaemin’s voice and the sound of his own heart beating faster and faster the more Jaemin starts to relax around him. 

Jeno tells him about the people he knows in detail and Jaemin’s eyes lit up when he seems to recognize some of the names. He talks about all of his friends and his very prominent perks, about Doyoung and his job as a storage manager and he tells him more about Taeyong and Youngho.

They end up laying down over a patch of thick grass when Jaemin asks about the clouds. 

“Do they actually change or did I imagine that?” and Jeno tells him he isn’t sure. “I hope they do. I like clouds. It’s good to just.... sit down and look at them from time to time.” 

Suddenly, Jeno cares about the clouds and whether they move and shift or not, the stars at night, the subtle changes in their environment that he had never noticed before.

The trees never die and so does the grass. Summer lasts forever, but it’s never unbearably hot nor is it ever too cold. The wind blows in different directions throughout the day, but never with enough force to bother them. People are constantly moving around him: reading and drawing, eating and laughing. 

It makes his chest feel tight with the realization that there’s way too many things happening while his biggest worry is, usually, his own pieces of writings and the books he always has on his hands. It makes Jeno aware of how big the building actually is, how many people live their afterlife just like him: small worlds and stories of their own that he might never know about.

He looks at Jaemin and the boy looks unbothered, completely unaware of Jeno’s inner turmoil, yet he's strangely quiet as he looks at the sky.

“You think too much.” Jeno blurts out because he’s the one overthinking right now and he hopes Jaemin feels the same, somehow. 

Jaemin smiles and it looks just as pretty and toothy as usual, even from the side; so Jeno scoots away, overwhelmed.

“Sometimes.” He moves to put one hand under his head and the other over his stomach. 

Jeno misses Jaemin’s skinny jeans. The white uniform makes him look more dull and plain, almost as if he could blend in with everyone else. Except Jaemin still carries that sparkle of life that none else seems to have. Jeno gets closer and he can almost sense it in the way Jaemin still smells like fresh fruits instead of flowery laundry detergent. 

“That’s why it’s important to stop thinking when you have time.”

The clouds do change, it turns out: they cruise through the pale blue sky with the force of the wind, the shapes shifting and changing until they form figures only Jaemin can point out right away. It’s an odd discovery to make after living there for so long, but Jeno likes it. He likes clouds. Maybe he liked clouds too, when he was alive. 

“Jaemin,” Jeno says before Jaemin can explain why this new set of clouds looks like a bird. 

“Hm?”

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to make a movie for you.”

In retrospect, maybe the hollow feeling at the pit of his stomach when Jaemin rolls over and rest his body weight on his left arm just to give Jeno his full attention and with that, the first terrified look Jeno has ever gotten from him, is the same Minhyung felt when Jeno rejected all of his efforts and instead decided to stay in the building as a worker. 

Maybe Jeno deserves some of this.

“Why?” Jaemin whispers, his quiet voice so different from his usual cheerful and whiny one, that it messes with Jeno’s senses. “What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing-” Jeno sits up too, grabs Jaemin by the shoulders and tries to shake some of the light back into him, but Jaemin looks dim. “Nothing’s wrong with you, Nana.”

“Who called me that?” Jaemin demands sharply, untangling himself away from Jeno’s grip, brows furrowed. “Nana?”

“Your friends did.”

“I can’t remember them anymore.”

Jeno lets his shoulders fall.

“You had a friend called Yangyang.” He starts slowly, looking up again because the memories of Jaemin’s book are everywhere: the clouds and the grass, the sound of Jaemin’s voice and the force that keeps Jeno gravitating around him. “You both liked dancing. You were very good at it. The first line I read about him- something like, ‘Liu Yangyang is Jaemin’s best friend since elementary school and they’ve been inseparable ever since’, led me to believe he was going to be your happiest memory.”

“But?” 

“He wasn’t. I think you never allowed him to be.” Jeno explains. “The difference between the things you would say out loud, the things you’d do and the things you’d think… you were bold and assertive, confident, you didn’t hesitate much, but inside…. you were different.” 

He moves to find Jaemin’s eyes from underneath his bangs and they’re glossy, not sparkly like tiny stars. 

“Every time I thought you were enjoying yourself and living your best life, you were always… sad.”

“Wow” Jaemin laughs without humor and Jeno holds his breath. “What an annoying piece of shit, can’t even enjoy myself when I’m doing cool things.”

“Could have fooled me.” 

Jeno tries to smile, but Jaemin isn’t really looking. 

“Nana, you were very sick. Not physically, but it’s clear to me that you were. You were sick and your brain refused to give you good things. But there’s still a chance if there’s anything you can remember. If there’s just a single dream or wish that wasn’t included in the book, I could-”

“I don’t remember.” Jaemin cuts.

He finally looks at Jeno straight in the eyes and he’s ignited with the kind of fire Jeno had been expecting to find when he first met Jaemin: angry and broken, exhausted and marked with the lack of something he might never be able to get. 

“I can’t remember shit now. I can’t even remember the one damn friend I had.”

“I’m sorry, Jaemin.”

“God.” Jaemin scoffs out a laugh, but it sounds nothing like his usual mocking yet charming giggles. “Fuck man, I’m never getting the sweet afterlife everyone keeps talking about.” 

Looking at the new Jaemin that sits troubled right in front of him, far from the manic pixie dream Jeno had taught him to be for so long, he feels a new set of feelings that he doesn’t remember ever experiencing. He can’t even pretend to be calm for Jaemin’s sake when all he wants to do is break the most fundamental rule and care for him.

Jeno knows too much about Jaemin. He has read too many details and snooped around his worst memories for a little too long. It doesn’t feel fair to be this hung up on him when Jaemin isn’t the one slowly sharing and presenting Jeno with all these puzzle pieces of himself. It only seems fair to try and keep his distance.

It’s against the rules to fall, but Jeno tripped too hard the moment he put his hands on the book with blue covers and his legs are weak now.

“It’s not your fault, Nana. These things are out of your control.” He tells Jaemin in a whisper and Jaemin’s frenzied eyes finally start to go back to their normal size, slowly but surely his finger unclench and he sits back as his shoulders sink again. 

“There’s nothing you could have done.” 

Jaemin looks at him for a long time, reads Jeno up better than Jeno could have read him back. He nods.

“Okay.”

“Do you wanna know? Everything that’s inside your book, would you like me to tell you?” Jeno suggests, and that’s just another rule that he breaks without a care. 

It gives him a rush, jumping over the invisible lines that he had always respected and made sure to never overstep. 

He swallows the knot in his throat and chases Jaemin until they’re sitting face to face, their legs touching again. 

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” 

“No, no, Jen you don’t have to do that. Sorry.” Jaemin sighs, but he doesn’t look up to meet Jeno’s eyes. 

“You don’t have to read the whole thing for me, it’s not very pleasant anyways, I bet,” Jaemin adds, but the way his fingers cling to the small pieces of grass tell Jeno he might actually be interested.

“Then, I’ll tell you how it should have been.” 

“Uh?”

Finally, he looks up, and with the fire having been extinguished with the unshed tears behind his eyes, Jaemin finally looks a bit closer to the Jaemin he was before Jeno spoke too much.

“I’m a writer, my job implies that I have to write stories. I’m used to writing about things that happened, but who says I can’t make a story up for you?”

“You said there are no happy memories on my book, where are you even going to get anything to work with?”

“I told you!” 

Jeno is confident, all of sudden. The ideas float around his head and now he has a plan that might work out just fine. 

“I’m gonna make it, from scratch, just for you. A whole new book.”

Jaemin sizes him up and down, carefully, slowly, he squints his eyes a little and then laughs. 

It feels especially good when Jaemin finally laughs again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I owe my friend Tiff for most of what this story came to be, so here's her little thank you note. 
> 
> I'm usually the kind of writer who doesn't share her work progress and would rather just present the other person with a finished product and this did take almost a year to finish, so I'm glad my friend was patient with me; and I'm glad you're reading this, too. 
> 
> I've come to dislike my story for things that go beyond the scope of my abilities, but I still carry a strange sense of pride for it so take it easy, I tried my best.


	2. burgeoning

“That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had.” 

Renjun has never been one to hold back. He can be empathetic, easily puts himself in the shoes of someone else and becomes overprotective of all the things he holds dear. Unfortunately, Renjun is also blunt, outspoken, gives Jeno a raised brow as Jeno vomits all of Jaemin’s story in one single breath while they share lunch under the shade of Renjun’s favorite tree. 

“Do you have a better plan?” Jeno taunts back and Renjun hums, scratching his chin dramatically.

“Actually, yes: turn in the book, say there’s nothing there for you to work with. Let the higher-ups decide what to do with it and move on.” He shrugs. “You know, I should start writing self-help books, I’m so good at this.”

“Funny,” Jeno says without an ounce of humor. “I won’t do that because I’ve never done that before and I don’t know what exactly they’re gonna do to Jaemin if-”

“Oh my god.” Renjun interrupts, a bit too loud, but there are not that many people sitting at the outside tables at the moment for Jeno to try and shush him down. “All of this just so you could get your dick wet? And here I thought it was about having high morals and doing the one thing we’re all supposed to do: get movies done. I can find you some good hookups if that’s what you so badly need. Look, I heard the new guy in music, what was his name? Jaehyun? I heard he is into-”

“Renjun.” He feels like a child, scowling and with his hands on tight fists. 

Renjun has a tendency to make other people feel dumb around him, not necessarily because he’s smarter, but because he acts like he is. 

“This is not about a hookup. He’s a good guy. I always try my best to give good people the best.” 

“Yeah, well, you’re also a decent dude and, as your friend, I’m telling you: you’d be better off not breaking all of the rules to have ever existed for some random entry.”

“Who’s breaking the rules?” 

Jeno cringes at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice. He had believed him to be too busy greeting new entries, but today seems to be the one day where everyone has all the time in the world as long as they have a chance of dragging Jeno through the mud.

“Jeno, and for a scrawny piece of meat.” Renjun sighs, taking a bottle of coke from Hyuck’s hand.

“Jeno?” Donghyuck sounds as surprised as Jeno expected him to be and that only makes him sink further into his seat. “Oooh, this I wanna hear. Spill the beans, Jen, who’s got your balls on a chokehold that tight?” 

Jeno hides his face and Renjun sips from his drink. 

“No happy memories kid.”

“His name’s-”

“No way! It’s the dude you visited the other day! That’s the one, isn’t he?!” Donghyuck is almost jumping on his seat, shaking Jeno’s shoulder until his neck hurts. Renjun simply stares, bored. 

“He wants to, well, break all the rules to get a movie for this kid basically.”

“Bold! Jeno Lee, that’s bold!”

Unlike him and Renjun who hang out a lot and work just fine because there are so many things they have in common, Donghyuck is Jeno’s most prominent opposite among his group of friends. 

He thrives in teasing Jeno and doesn’t filter himself with anyone, not a second of quietness can be spent around him and relaxing time always involves doing the opposite of that. He always finds a way to make even the most boring situations entertaining. He’s smart and quick-witted, elders dote on him because he acts cute around them and Jeno wants to bang his head on the table because cute is the last word he would use to describe him right now. 

“He’s cute, Jeno! Ah, maybe I should get myself a cute piece of meat too.”

“His name’s Jaemin.” Jeno protests.

“Nobody can stand you for longer than a night, Hyuckie.” Renjun intersects. “Plus, you can’t woo them using Jeno’s tactic because there’s nothing romantic about you breaking the rules for the thousandth time, even if you claim you’re doing it to fuck or whatever.”

“I’m not breaking the rules just to fuck!” Jeno cries.

“Maybe so, but I can still tell I was part of this romantic story. That's like, side character of Romeo and Juliet, Junnie.” 

Donghyuck makes a point of using his most theatrical voice and his most dramatic expressions. They don't work to amuse either Renjun or Jeno, but the whole act could be funny in any other context.

“It’s not like that-”

“Actually, that’s very fitting, since they’re both dying in all senses of the word over this after the higher-ups find out,” Renjun says at the same time Jeno speaks up. 

“Ah-ha! I’ll be Mercury then!”

“Mercutio.” Both Renjun and Jeno say at the same time.

He doesn’t see Jaemin until it’s Monday again and Jeno has to pick up more books from the library first thing in the morning. He usually wakes up earlier than six so he can be the first in line, but there’s a new kind of tiredness taking over his body and he’s almost dragging his feet over the floor by nine, when the bells announcing the arrival of new books fills every corner of the building. 

He yawns and the girl handing him the books gives him a pity look. The new tomes are rather short, luckily, so he makes a mental note to finish at least half of them before going back to writing for Jaemin, then the other half later that week. 

As long as he has something to show his higher-ups, he’s good.

“Nana?” 

Jaemin is, as always, the one thing that stands out from everything else around him. Even now, with the soft light of life slowly melting off him, Jeno could tell him apart from the ever-growing crowd without a problem.

“Jeno Lee! Hello.” 

There’s something about Jaemin’s cheerful voice that automatically lifts a weight out of Jeno’s shoulders, draws him in to sit next to Jaemin instead of getting back to work right away. 

“I’m reading about a man who died while serving. He actually loved his wife, but he also really wanted children that she couldn’t have. It’s a bit of a sob story, but someone added a post it that just says-” he stops looking at Jeno to put his eyes back on the thick book and reads out loud the small added note word for word, “Quote, ‘He makes it back home and his wife surprises him with a full belly. He’s overcome with joy. He has served his country and now he finally gets to come home to the family he always dreamed of.’ I think it’s very sweet.”

“And it’s an add-on because it never happened,” Jeno says, matter-of-factly, maybe a bit too harshly.

He lets his chin rest on the heel of his palm as he examines Jaemin’s new guise. He looks as bright as the first time, there are no left-overs of the Jaemin that had broken down in front of him and it makes Jeno wonder what other sides of Jaemin actually exist that he doesn’t know about yet. 

Jaemin seems to be a mystery, even when all of his memories still exist in Jeno’s mind like a prayer that he keeps chanting before bed. 

“But it is cute.” He adds, desperate to keep Jaemin’s high-spirits intact.

“If I was this soldier, I’d probably want a fantasy world to be my happily ever after too.” Jaemin pouts. “Imagine going to war and still getting trapped in a lame memory for the rest of eternity.”

“We try our best.” Jeno tells him, following the book with his eyes as Jaemin closes it and slides it away from him. “Sometimes lame memories are exactly what’s going to bring eternal joy to the souls, you know?”

“Yeah” Jaemin sighs, almost dreamily, crossing his arms over the table and carefully letting his chin rest on top of them. “Some of you try- too hard, I think.”

“Well, it’s just our-”

“How’s my book coming along? Wait, can we even talk about that in here, sorry I don’t actually know the rules.”

“Relax, Jaemin.” Jeno laughs and it sounds a little panicked. “I-” His eyes scan the room and he’s suddenly aware of the multitude around him, the thousands of voices that make the usually quiet library a cacophony of indistinguishable conversations all happening at once. There’s too many eyes that aren’t actually looking in their direction but they very well could, it makes Jeno angsty. “I’m getting there.”

“Mhm, okay.” Jaemin shifts his eyes away, distracted. “Don’t stress too much about it, Jen. I’m not in a hurry.”

Jeno stays in the library for the rest of the day, reading quietly with Jaemin sitting right in front of him with a pile of books of his own.

When nobody’s around, Jaemin becomes serene, his flame just a constant sparkle and his eyes always half closed. He reads without moving and doesn’t interrupt Jeno until Jeno speaks first, reminds him of lunch and dinner with a soft voice that doesn’t feel familiar.

They have lunch with Jisung and Chenle, who seems more than pleased with themselves when Jeno introduces them to Jaemin. 

“Oh, no, we’re more than happy to know our Jeno has more friends.” They snicker and Jaemin smiles openly.

“He’s very nice.”

“Very nice indeed!” Chenle yells, almost jumping off his seat as Jisung breaks into a fit of cackles that make Jeno wish he could drag Jaemin away, but there’s no empty tables. “Tell us more!”

Dinner with Renjun is quieter. Renjun and Jaemin complement each other in their ability to be quiet without making it awkward, it’s a rare sight, to have loud and bouncy Jaemin sipping from his soup without lifting his eyes and Renjun tells Jeno about his day handing in some overdue prints. 

“Your friends are nice.” Jaemin finally says as they walk back to the dorms.

“I mean, they’re what they are, sorry about the kids.”

“I liked them the best!”

Jeno makes a mental note of that and makes a point of forcing Jisung and Chenle to have lunch with them every day that week, just so he can see Jaemin smiling sweetly at them when one of his jokes lands a little too well and Chenle ends up laughing his loudest laugh.

It’s Saturday when Jaemin walks on Jeno reading at the library.

“I thought you hated reading here.”

“Yeah, well, yes, but-” He’s too pleased with the fact that Jaemin remembered that fact about him from one of their multiple conversations to form a coherent thought. “Writing your book is a bit more challenging, so I’m trying to keep myself alert.” He lies, and Jaemin doesn’t buy it, but he lets it slide.

“Right.” He sips from his coffee and then hands it to Jeno without saying anything, as if sharing plastic mugs is something they’ve always done. “You’ve been working really hard on that, maybe you should take a break.”

“It’s fine! Really, Nana, I want to finish this as soon as possible so you can- you know.” He drinks from the coffee and winces when it tastes like he’s chewing coffee beans alone and adding boiling water straight into his mouth. 

“Yeah.” Jaemin sighs, he looks pleased to be able to relax for a moment and Jeno wonders not for the first time, if being so bubbly is more work than it’s worth. 

He looks around and the library is already mostly empty. Without the premise of being the quietest place in the entire building, the library isn’t that attractive and most workers simply don’t work after the sun goes down. It’s only late afternoon, the sky still orange outside and Jeno feels himself become jumpy with the idea that forms inside his brain.

“Hey.” He says, desperate to have Jaemin’s attention on him. “What you say, we do a little exploring and, you know, I can show you some things you might have never seen yet.” He shrugs, trying to play it cool, but his leg is bouncing underneath the table. “Maybe we can see the forest.” 

The thick forest that surrounds the building is usually off limits. 

Renjun had warned Jeno once that the forest has no end and that the trees become thicker the deeper you go, making it easy for adventurers to get lost in its depths. Never to be found again. 

The forest works mainly to contain species of which movies are impossible to make for nature reasons. Dogs are easy, although never Jeno’s favorite, but every bug becomes a task that writers cannot deal with and they end up in the forest among those animals who escape before they can be contained for long enough to get a movie made.

Large wild animals and the possibility of being lost in limbo are far from being Jeno’s biggest fear; in a way, being dead takes away all trepidations. Jeno gets scared easily, of loud sounds and of small animals that decide to sprint in his direction, but it doesn’t take new souls a long time to understand that there isn’t such a thing as a second death, so most things that they could find scary, are easily defeated. 

He’s surprised when he comes to the realization that he’s mostly scared for what could happen to Jaemin and his wandering personality. 

“If we get lost-” he starts for what feels like the hundredth time, already starting to regret the idea.

“Then we might never get back.” Jaemin finishes for him, rolling his eyes. “We won't, Jeno. I’ll remember the way back. Promise.” He grabs Jeno’s wrists and pulls him through the narrow path between the thick trunks until they’re at least three lines in.

Under the tall trees, the light only manages to reach the ground in thin spectacles that filter through the thick branches and make everything look dreamy. Underwater-like, almost. The smell of humid pine leaves and damp soil is almost as distracting and the small noises coming from all directions, up with the birds, down when they break small branches with their feet, far away with the small animals that quickly run away from them and closer with the bugs that dance around their heads. 

Jeno feels cold, but Jaemin’s hand on his keeps him warm. Maybe he’s blushing a little bit, but he would never admit to it. 

“Wait.” Jeno whispers, because talking too loud feels wrong for some reason. “I have a plan.”

He reluctantly lets go of Jaemin’s hand to look for the book he has kept in the pocket of his hoodie all this time. The covers are blue and the pages are tinted with the passage of time and the multiple times Jeno has gone over them while following his daily schedule without a change. One of the pages has a distinctive smell of coffee, and others still have dog ears that he probably didn’t mean to leave on the edges. 

Jeno looks at Jaemin’s blank expression and keeps the eye contact steadily as he rips a page from the book painfully slow. 

“We won’t need it anymore.” He explains, even when Jaemin doesn’t even flinch at the sight of the first page of his book resting in one of Jeno’s hands. “I will stick it to… this tree, see?” 

He’s thankful now, for the kangaroo pocket and for all the things he usually carries around in there. One never knows when they’ll need a bunch of small push pins, and Jeno’s glad he always carries a few with him in a small box where he also has a lighter and some band aids. 

“We can stick one page in each tree, and when we run out, we should get back from where we came from.” 

Jaemin beams at him. His hair seems to change colors under the flickering light of the forest, his white uniform stands out like a sore thumb and he glows. Jaemin always seems to glow a bit brighter than everything else around him. 

“Okay!” He says with a clap before scrambling away from Jeno’s sigh.

“Are you serious?” He feels the heat starting to build up on his face and all around his head. He can’t see Jaemin but he can hear him, so he’s not far but Jeno still grinds his teeth. “Jaemin, what did I say just a damn second ago, don’t go anywhere without me or we will get lost!”

“It’s fine!” Jaemin laughs, now at his far right. 

“It’s not fine! Jaemin?” Jeno looks around, his breath coming in short huffs.

The only times when his friends don’t tease him is when Jeno starts to grind his teeth with raw anger. 

He gets cranky in the morning, even when they need no sleep, and he loses his temper when things don’t work out just fine after he tries a couple of times; but the anger he feels now, the frustration of not being able to move, but feeling the need to chase Jaemin, is different. 

He’s breathing heavily and he can feel the ache on his jaw from pressing his teeth together with too much force.

“Jaemin.” 

“Hurry!” Jaemin giggles again and Jeno sees red before he moves in long strides after him. “There you are, Jeno, look I found-” He goes quiet when Jeno’s fingers close like claws around his forearm. 

“Why?” 

“Jeno, let go.” His voice becomes low too, he’s finally frozen in place and Jeno can feel his fake pulse, the vestigial movement of life inside of him. He’s a bit jealous, under all the rest. “I’m pretty sure this thing I’m feeling is not pain, but you’re gonna leave a mark.”

“We’re going back.” Jeno lets go and Jaemin arm drops, lifeless like the both of them actually are.

“Jeno- hey, Jeno, I’m sorry. I was joking. I never went too far, I’d have found you.”

“Would I have found you?” Jeno berates and Jaemin takes a step back. “Would I? Because I’m pretty sure that the whole endless forest thing means something along the lines of “don’t go in too deep into the forest” and look at you, going in deeper without me.”

“I’m really sorry, Jeno, I didn’t think-”

“Of course you didn’t!” It’s unfair, Jeno’s more used to the kind of argument that can be solved by pushing each other around and yelling louder than the other. Donghyuck and him get along because they have the same way of dealing with conflict, Jaemin instead keeps frowning, feet steady as Jeno invades his space.

“I’m thinking now, and what I think it’s that we’re already inside and we will be better off staying until the sun comes out again.”

“Oh, that’s just perfect.”

He turns around, staples another page against a trunk and keeps walking.

There’s something to be found in the forest, with the lights turning orange and Jaemin standing so close, looking more sad and worried than angry, eyes glossy and mouth pressed into a thin line. Going back now would make the small bubble they share break and Jeno isn’t ready. He isn’t ready to let go of Jaemin just yet, even when Jaemin wrongs him.

They walk in silence for a couple minutes, every time Jeno stops to put a page on a tree Jaemin sighs and sits on the ground right behind him. Jeno feels his heating anger die down slower than usual, the small boat that he is coming off the storm to find calm waters right in front, infinite blue that doesn’t have much to say about his struggle with the uncontrollable waves.

“Sorry.” Jaemin says when he easily predicts Jeno’s calmness. “That was a dumb thing to do, you are right about not wandering off.”

“Yeah.” Jeno says, drums his fingers against the wood. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

“I forgive you.” Jaemin says, like it’s easy. 

“That was the last page, too, so we might have to stay right here where we are.” 

They both look around, at the small circle that forms a couple meters away, where the spaces between the branches of three trees gives space to a perfect line of silver light and the dead trunk that lays right under the light makes everything look like a fairy tale. 

“How do souls get trapped inside the movies?” Jaemin asks when they’re both seated, eyes already lost on the little patches of sky they can see from their spot. 

Jeno recalls finding out the clouds change with the wind, so it wouldn’t really be a surprise to find the position of the stars does too. He likes the stars, maybe even more than he likes the clouds.

“Once you’re happy with the movie and it doesn’t need any more changes, we will take you to a viewing room.” Jeno starts, voice mellowed, fingers finally letting go of the thigh fist he had kept them in. 

He can see Jaemin blinking at the small lights in the sky from the corner of his eye and this new set of lights make him look completely different again. Their shoulders are touching and it’s cold outside, but Jaemin’s warm. 

“The movie will play and, as you watch, you will slowly start to disappear. You won’t be trapped in the movie, you will just carry that one moment of happiness with you as any remains of the physical… you, disappear. That’s all you’ll have in the afterlife. Then, the movie will go to our storage room.”

“Then you’ll forget about me.”

Jeno raises his nose in distaste. 

There’s something about moonlight on Jaemin’s delicate features and the emptiness of the forest that makes him want to curl up against Jaemin and stay like that forever, something about the wind making music with the leaves and Jaemin putting his hand on top of his. 

“You will too.” 

Jaemin looks at him from behind his long lashes, eyes big and telling. “I haven’t been able to forget you since I first came here. I’ve forgotten everything and everyone else but you, Jeno Lee.”

And it makes sense, slowly and then all at once, that Jaemin had felt like a memory of a forgotten dream since the beginning, since the first time Jeno saw him, since the moment he read his messy handwriting on the blue book. 

There’s nothing about Jaemin that could give Jeno the downpour of clear memories he expected to have when he finally found that one soul he had been waiting for all this time, but there’s something about him that he simply can’t forget, even if the pictures don’t present themselves unambiguously on his brain.

“Did we know each other? Before, I mean.” Jeno begs, searching for the answers to unsaid questions behind the black of Jaemin’s pupils, even if there’s nothing there but the indistinct reflection of the night lights. “Did we?”

“I don’t know.” Jaemin mouths, doesn’t even speak, because they're so close now, Jeno can feel every word right against his cheeks, his nose, his lips. “You are the one who minds other people’s businesses a tad too much… but I think we might have.”

Jeno laughs, the best he can with his stomach tossing and turning and with his ribs tight around his lungs. 

He dares to put his hands on each side of Jaemin’s face and his jaw feels sharp, yet his skin is soft and smooth under Jeno’s fingertips. He knows there are marks and lines there, little patterns that make Jaemin’s face easy to recognize, and he can’t see them now, but he remembers them very well. 

“I died decades before you were even born.”

“Then we might have met before that.” Jaemin easily solves.

“There’s no such thing as second lives.”

“We were energy, before time. We might have been something else before we were alive, and we were together, back then; so we’re together again, now.”

“That’s the grossest thing you’ve ever said, Jaemin. What happened to you?”

Kissing Jaemin involves less butterflies than all the build-up leading up to it, surprisingly.

It feels right. Meant to be, almost. The tension Jeno had been building up for weeks finally melts off his muscles and he relaxes fully, lets himself grow warmer under the feeling of Jaemin’s closeness. 

He moves slowly against him, a hand holding himself up and the other holding Jeno close, closer, tighter. There’s no competition and no rush, when Jaemin finally opens his mouth, Jeno feels like he’s dancing a perfectly choreographed waltz as he slides his tongue against Jaemin’s.

“Jeno, are you still mad?” Jaemin asks, pulling back a little to get a good view of Jeno’s face.

“Yes,” Jeno says around a smile, already tugging Jaemin into another kiss. “So kiss it better.” 

Renjun is the one that finds them first when they emerge from the woods with cloying smiles plastered on their faces and their pinkies intertwined. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” 

Jeno’s phone buzzes impatiently on the back pocket of his pants and Renjun has his on his hand, so it isn’t hard to guess that he must have called Jeno a thousand times by now. The fret is deeply marked in his disheveled hair and the deep bags under his eyes. Renjun storms in their direction and stabs Jeno’s chest with a thin finger that burns on Jeno’s skin. 

“Jeno, have you got any idea how worried we all were? Uh?”

It’s only fitting, after having had such a night.

There are only a handful of memories Jeno has of Renjun actually getting angry at him. 

Most of the time, when they fight, Jeno would start smiling to ease the pressure off and Renjun would push him even harder, but mostly playfully. He would raise his voice even higher, maybe scoff and turn around, but ultimately, he would give in, unable to stay mad for longer than a second.

Renjun likes to keep things close to him where he can see them: every set of brushes he owns, he always counts and checks before he starts painting, every pencil, every shade. 

He does the same with the people he cares about, if they’re having lunch together then he would look up from his soup just to make sure everyone’s eating. He goes to look for Jeno at the storage room if he doesn’t see him walking around with books in his hands. He sits at the front desk with Donghyuck and lets him talk about the new entries until he doesn’t have anything else to say. He babies Jisung. He speaks Chinese with Chenle every chance he gets, just so the younger doesn’t forget.

It’s only fitting that he’s the one waiting for them at this exact same spot. Renjun would be the one to know, after all.

Jisung finds them not long after that, runs in their direction with Chenle in town after Renjun angrily calls them to tell them he finally found Jeno and Jaemin. 

Donghyuck comes too, he walks in with panic still fresh in his eyes and his uniform all creased from pulling and tugging on the sweater too much. 

Jeno feels it again as they all gather on the open fields, the fear that starts building up at the pit of his stomach and makes it hard to breathe, is the same fear that made him rage before, except now it leaves him breathless and stars truck. They’re all there, and they all look like death knocked their doors for a second time last night. 

It’s all his fault.

“If I could, I would end you with my bare hands right now,” Donghyuck says and runs a hand through his already messy hair. “You made Jisung cry. I had to tell Kun I couldn’t be at the reception desk today because my friend called me last night and he sounded like he found out you were dead or something. Everyone was so worried.”

Jeno opens his mouth, but the voice that comes out isn’t his own. 

“I’m sorry everyone. It was my idea. Jeno said we shouldn’t, but I insisted.” Jaemin explains, serene but apologetic enough that all eyes turn to him in silent disbelief. 

“I can’t believe-” Renjun sizzles. “Did you suggest the thing with the book too?” Jeno opens his mouth again, but Renjun doesn’t give him the space to talk. “All you’ve done is getting all of us in trouble since you first came. There’s nothing cool about breaking the rules, Na Jaemin. There’s nothing extraordinary about Jeno losing his job. Jobs are the only thing we have in here.” 

Renjun walks closer and, for once, he doesn’t look small. 

“I don’t think you get it because you’re still going to get a happy movie that you don’t deserve while we… we are trapped here. Forever. We don’t have anything left, we just have each other and this stupid bullshit we do to keep ourselves mildly sane.” 

He’s breathing too loudly, Jaemin takes a step back and Jeno wonders if this is the version of Jaemin that he remembers reading about once: small and easily frightened, eyes widening and hands trembling at each side of his limp body.

“I got Jisung’s call and we asked around, you cannot imagine how we felt when someone told us you two had gone into the forest. You have no idea.” 

Renjun’s tears make his voice shake, but the rawness of it does nothing to soften his words.

“We can’t afford to lose anyone, okay? You wanna go back in there and get lost for the rest of eternity? Fine. Go on your own, leave my friends out of it.”

“It won’t happen again.” Jaemin reassures him after what feels like forever, voice clear, hands in shaky fists now. 

Everything grows quiet again. There’s nothing else but Renjun’s fire consuming Jaemin’s sparkly flames and Jeno can’t move, can’t think, can’t speak, because all there is inside of him stops working all at once. 

“C’mon now, Junnie, calm down.” Donghyuck tries, voice finally back to its usual pitch.

It feels like he breaks the frozen air as he walks to Renjun to put a hand on his shoulder. 

“I think we should all go back to our dorms and try to rest a bit.” 

He doesn’t give Jeno enough time to get a word in before he starts dragging Renjun back to the building.

“I’m sleeping with Chenle.” Jisung says before he turns on his feet and starts walking away too. 

He looks small, in the distance, with his head low and his shoulders tense, and Jeno can’t help but remember that Jisung’s nothing more than a kid. 

He needs people who can take care of him, no more things to worry about.

“We’re really happy you’re fine, Jen.” Chenle tells him, the hand he puts in Jeno’s arm is trembling but his voice is gentle. “Give us some time, it was a long night.”

Jaemin walks with Jeno back to his dorm and his quiet, but this kind of quiet is the one that makes Jeno feel like there’s a deep gap in between them and now he can’t even remember what it feels to hold Jaemin’s pinkie. 

When Jeno gives himself too much room to think, he drowns.

Funnily enough, there’s really no time for much when one has the rest of eternity to live. Every major problem feels insignificant in the broader scheme of things, every tear, every pitiful night spent wallowing in self-doubt and pity; nothing is worthy of his time when there’s still so much left. 

It consumes his happiest memories too, one blissful and memorable night is nothing more than a millisecond in the endless calendar of the afterlife. 

There’s nothing left, really. Jeno reads his books and hands in his scripts, but this too feels useless, meaningless, when he still has so many books to read. People on earth keep multiplying, keep coming, they keep dying and there’s always a fresh set of stories for him to read.

It feels especially long, the afterlife, when Jeno’s alone at lunchtime and he can see everyone else around him chatting away with their own group of friends. 

His friends will probably see it too, sooner or later: there’s no use in feeling the way they do, their anger and distrust aren’t going to mean anything a thousand years from now. Everything they said, everything they hold so dearly, they will move on, and the start of the fight will become another long lost memory. Fights never last for longer than a day when it comes to them and Jeno knows the bond they all have runs deeper than whatever any of them could ever do to try and ruin it.

It’s ridiculous, too, Jeno convinces himself some nights. It wasn’t even that serious and everyone’s fine now. Nothing happened and the word didn’t spread around far enough that it reached any of their higher-ups. Nobody got in trouble. Some rules make no sense anyways, they were made to be broken. His friends should be over it.

Yet, they aren’t. 

“Strawberries.” Jaemin smiles and the fact that there are no teeth on his grin make Jeno sulk again. There’s not one thing, not one gesture that can make things feel right for at least a moment, not even Jaemin’s favorite things.

“Fresh, I cut them myself.” Jeno says and then sits on the grass next to Jaemin. 

They don’t look up this time, if the clouds change, then there will come a time when they look the same again. It’s no use.

“Just like I like them.” Jaemin rests his head on Jeno’s shoulder as he eats quietly. 

It feels nice to have Jaemin so close, but weird when the other’s so intensely quiet. Jeno’s more used to Jaemin’s bubbly self than he is to the calm and collected side of him, but the kind of slice that grows between them nowadays just feels heavy, makes Jeno want to crawl back into his room and stay there forever.

“Tell me about your books.” Jaemin pleads and Jeno closes his eyes as he thinks.

“There was a really old lady, her book was all messy because she suffered from Alzheimer’s, so it was really difficult to find something fitting.” He picks up a strawberry of his own and lets his top lip crawl up with the strong sour taste. “She had many happy memories and aspirations, she had four kids and grandkids she couldn’t remember very well.” 

He finds Jaemin’s free hand and the lines on his palm become hypnotic. Jeno traces each of them with his finger, presses on the rougher part of Jaemin’s hand, interlocks their fingers and then looks up. 

“She’s getting a movie where she’s young again and her father dances with her in the living room of her old house. She remembers that one night very well.”

“That’s lovely,” Jaemin whispers back, holding Jeno’s hand so their fingers stay intertwined.

“Renjun is designing the costumes, so we have to actually interact.” Jeno says then and it feels wrong to talk about sad things again, but Jaemin doesn’t look mad. “He refuses to talk to me though, so I have to write things down and then leave them at his desk.”

“When he comes around, and I know he will,” Jaemin promises when Jeno makes a face, “I’ll ask him if he can make some art for my first movie. He always plans the cuts and the frames so well in his storyboards, I didn’t even know you needed them even when the movie isn’t animated.”

Jeno flinches, but Jaemin’s still holding him, so there’s no escape. “Have you decided then?” He clears his throat, but his voice still sounds too high-pitched for his liking. “Movie team it is?”

“Well...” when Jaemin lets go to pick up another berry from the tiny bowl Jeno gave him, it feels like he retracts underground where Jeno can’t reach him. 

It had been a silent discussion that they never actually had. Jaemin simply frowned when he found Jeno writing something that wasn’t a script and quietly moved the page so he would have to start a new one. It wasn’t a direct message but it was clear enough that Jeno had simply gone back to silently writing his scripts and reading his books.

“You don’t have to do that anymore, obviously.” Jaemin had him out of nowhere, days after the incident took and Jeno had simply lifted a brow. “Writing for me, clearly I don’t want you breaking the rules or anything.”

“But-“

“And It would be nice to stay, anyways.” He had shrugged, eyes unfocused. “So let me stay.”

“There’s this girl, Seojong," Jaemin tells him now, voice close to his usual overexcited tone. "She’s in the editing team and she showed me around the other day. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many computers in real life. I didn’t know you had this level of technology here. I was surprised because you guys still read and write everything by hand, Renjun still draws on paper instead of in a tablet, so I didn’t-” 

And just as quickly as it comes, the whimsical sparkle is gone and Jaemin deflates again. 

“I’m going to think about it, obviously. About what team I want to be in. I haven’t decided yet.”

Jeno finds his way to Renjun’s dorm door later in the afternoon. 

He has an idea for a type of fabric that could make the red dress have the old look they had been trying to achieve, and it feels like it can’t wait, so he knocks.

“Ah, we talked about this.”

“No, no, no, wait, wait.” Jeno puts his hand on Renjun’s door before he can close it right on his face and makes a point of smiling apologetically. “I swear it’s work-related.”

Maybe it isn’t, though. 

Jeno has a picture of the fabric on his phone and it makes sense that he is there to show it to Renjun who seemed to be struggling with the texture of the dress, but it still feels like an excuse. Jeno’s also there to just make sure Renjun is doing well. His dorm is clean. His desk is full of sketches that Renjun sometimes draws for himself rather than for the company. Jeno needs to be sure Renjun is doing just fine without him.

There’s a selfish part of him that hopes that he isn’t, just so he can feel accompanied in that regard.

It still feels odd, to pass Renjun’s door without peeking his head though when that’s what Jeno had always done since Renjun moved to his hallway with Yerim. Jisung couldn’t sleep with the door open, so Jeno’s door remained closed and Renjun always had to knock, but Yerim didn’t seem to mind the fact that Jeno would walk in unprompted in the mornings when he didn’t have any work left.

“I swear.” He pleads again, softer, and Renjun gives in with a sigh. 

“Yerim’s out. You can sit on her bed.” Renjun says as he walks back, leaving Jeno to let himself in and close the door behind his back. “I really don’t wanna hear it, so this better actually be work related.”

There are new sketches on Renjun’s desk: a short sequence of Donghyuck letting a thin piece of pork meat slide off his chopsticks and Yerim sitting on the windowsill, long hair thrown over one shoulder and one knee bent against her chest. 

Renjun’s art is softer than most people’s, his lines thin and blurry, always realistic but still dreamy in the use of colors and the unfinished backgrounds. These ones are harsher, fewer colors and more defined lines. They have their own unique beauty, like everything else Renjun does, but they feel angrier, less airy. Even the drawing of a tiny tit bird on a branch yells something Jeno can’t understand right at his face.

“Is that Sicheng?” Jeno speaks without really meaning to, catching a page filled with face studies and an attempt to recover the more flowy lines Renjun usually draws in the form of a small figure dancing at the bottom of the page. “The Chinese guy.”

“Jeno.” Renjun exasperates, quickly moving to grab all of his drawings and hide them on the top drawer of his desk. “Just tell me why you’re here and leave, please.”

“Right.”

Jeno doesn’t sit on Yerim’s bed because it looks neat and recently done, he just stands in the middle of the room with his phone in his hands as he explains his vision for the fabric to Renjun. He catches something on him, a glimpse of interest and a twitch of his fingers.

“Cool,” Renjun says instead of anything of what Jeno wanted to hear. “I’ll keep it in mind. Send it to me later. Is that all?”

“Yeah.” Jeno looks down at his phone before he locks it. Jaemin should be at his dorm at this hours.

“The drawings were cool, by the way. They’re… different. I like them.”

Renjun looks back at the drawer where he hid all of his pieces and hums, arms crossed over his chest, but shoulders more relaxed than before. 

“It’s not the same. Me and Sicheng. He already got his movie done. He’s not like Jaemin.”

“Of course he isn’t.”

“I’m serious,” Renjun says a little harsher, but nowhere near as bitter as to what Jeno has come to expect. “I mean, he’s gone now.” He shrugs, defeated. 

“Did you want him to stay?” Jeno pries, maybe he just wants to stay a bit longer.

Renjun scowls and his fingers trace the designs on the wood of the drawer. 

Jeno wants him to talk, wants so bad to simply sit on the floor and listen to Renjun ramble about everything and anything until the night comes and his turmoil dies. 

“Doesn’t matter now.” Renjun sentences, closing his fingers and drawing his hand back so he can cross his arms again. Tightly. Final. “I didn’t even know the guy, Hyunjin just- she talks too much and she made it feel like I knew everything about him just from her tales. It’s dumb. I can’t make him come back and there’s that. No matter what I say or what I do.” 

He turns his back on Jeno and grabs the sketchbook where Jeno knows the drawings for the old lady’s movie are drawn on from his bedside table. 

“You know how I am, I’m just bitter because it’s out of my control. I don’t like it when things are out of my control.”

“Right.” Jeno says, but it feels more like an apology. “Right. Okay. I’ll leave you to it. Thanks for, uh, your hard work.”

He almost sprints out of Renjun’s room, tense and a bit agitated.

Jaemin at least gives him a sympathetic look, says “Well, it’s progress.” and let’s Jeno sleep on his bed when they end up staying in Jaemin’s room the entire afternoon.

“Jeno? It’s Wednesday.”

Chenle’s is the only familiar voice that Jeno can still hold on to. The younger doesn’t joke around as much and he certainly acts quieter and distant when Jeno’s around, but at least they’re talking. At least Chenle still shares details about Jisung with him and he hands Jeno his books with the same small smile he gives everyone else. 

It’s something, at least.

Chenle is wearing gloves today, satin instead of latex, so Jeno knows there’s a new set of books that have reached a certain age and thus are being moved off the shelves and into the deepest parts of the library to keep them from being touched and possibly ruined. 

“I know.” He quickly looks around and the few people sitting at the long tables with thick books on their hands don’t seem to even notice them standing there, talking in whispers. “I know, I’m just here for a... book... repair,” Jeno explains, slowly. “The spine of one of my books came loose, pages all over, I don’t know how I managed to get them all back. Yukhei is seeing to it, and I wanted to know if he was done.”

Chenle raises a brow. “Sure.” and Jeno tenses up, but then Chenle simply turns back to organize the pile of books he was busy with before Jeno interrupted him. “You and Jaemin never leave the library, do you?”

That piques Jeno’s interest more than he’d like to let Chenle know. “Jaemin?”

“He’s always here,” Chenle says, a bit fonder, so Jeno lingers a bit closer just to try and read his expression and the tone of his voice. “He just names random years and I tell him where to find the books. I don't think anyone else can read as fast as you can, but he does pretty well for himself.”

Jeno blinks down and the memory of Jaemin reading about the soldier slips into his mind. There must have been more before that, even more after. Jaemin finds pleasure in reading old books so it would only make sense that he would find new ones even more entertaining. 

“He could join any team.” He tells Chenle. “Who knows, might even join you guys in here.”

Chenle lets out a chuckle and Jeno basks into the sound for longer than anticipated before he remembers what he’s actually at the library for. 

He waves Chenle goodbye and pretends he doesn’t notice the way Jisung only walks to help him after Jeno has left the scene to make his way to the library workshop.

The workshop is hidden at the far back of the library, a small wooden door that could easily be missed unless you were looking for it- It’s rare to find books who actually need repair in there, most of the creations are prime quality and don’t come undone for millennial to come. 

The place expands beyond what anyone would expect, with high ceilings and enormous machines that never stop printing; cubicles where a part of the team checks the pages of the books and their covers. Translators. Operators. They have to make sure each binding is secure and that each handwriting is at least legible. The making of each book only takes them a day, yet it seems like they never stop working.

“Ah, Jen! You’re here!”

Yukhei is in charge of one of the printers and he’s a dog in human form. A big golden retriever. He’s taller than Jeno and taller than most people, he talks a bit too loudly and seems to always be excited and happy about everything that happens around him. 

Jeno knows him because he shared a birth year with Minhyung and Minhyung had a thing for keeping people close to his age in a small circle of good friends. Yukhei wasn’t part of Jeno’s close circle, mostly because he spent his every waking day at the library, but also because Jeno could only handle so much brightness with one Lee Donghyuck.

It’s been weeks and Yukhei still seems ecstatic about the fact that Jeno has become a daily visitor of the workshop. He’s always surrounded by dozens of workers, yet he’s happy to have Jeno and his little stories about what’s going on upstairs there with him at least once every two days.

“Jen, I finally found the blue cover you asked me about, come look, come look! I swear the plain ones are always the hardest ones to find, I’m so sorry you lost the other book, but I’m sure I can make it so nobody’s gonna notice.”

Jeno smiles his brightest smile and nods a couple times. There’s something itching inside of him, but Yukhei talks about having the print ready in less time than anticipated and Jeno forgets about everything else.

If there’s one thing that Jeno knows about himself, is that he doesn’t give up.

Jeno has always had a thick skull and a penchant for challenges that push him further and further, There, where his friends would just let go, Jeno grips tightly until he can find a way to get it done. He has always been good at following rules and instructions, smart enough to know how to navigate the waves of his own perseverance around those he respects; but nothing really stops him from getting the things he wants.

Yukhei shows him a pair of familiar blue covers on the screen of his computer and Jeno grabs into his new ambition, tightly.

“Then I’m gonna say: what I’m trying to say is that I understand and respect your feelings, and I’ll give you all the time you guys need, but it’s important for me that you know that I feel terrible about what happened and hope we can be friends again soon.” 

It’s the middle of the afternoon, the sun shines bright right above their heads and breaks into bright colors when it hits the frosted glass of the green house. 

He turns around only to find Jaemin with his fingers on the dangerous petals of a venomous plant. 

“Nana?”

“It feels a bit guilt-tripping,” Jaemin says without looking at Jeno. “Maybe just say sorry and leave it at that.”

“I just want them to know I don’t think their feelings are unjustified.”

“But you do?” Jaemin turns to size Jeno up with a raised brow and Jeno deflates. “Jen, if you lie to them now, then you’re just gonna make things worse. Tell them how you actually feel and listen to what they have to say. Listen carefully. Then you can apologize again and maybe accept their apologies back.” 

Jeno crosses his arms over his chest and leans his back against the table behind him. Jaemin mimics him, holding a handful of fresh grapes in one hand. 

The greenhouse is just as endless as everything else: the high glass ceiling and the smell of thousands of flowers mix together to create the perfect combination of everything Jeno usually avoids. It’s too hot to wear hoodies, so they have theirs around their waists and there are too many plants with thorns so they have to wear gloves. 

Jeno wants to leave, but Jaemin has made it a point to give each plant at least five whole minutes of attention before moving to the next one.

“I talked to them the other day. Yes, don’t give me that face, I don’t need permission to apologize. Yes, I apologized again. No, I didn’t apologize for you, I did it for myself.” Jaemin says with his mouth full. 

“I couldn’t get them all together, obviously, so I had to go and talk to each of them separately. Renjun was the most difficult one. I had to chase him across the whole building.”

He turns around again to take more grapes from the vines hanging above his head.

“I think Jisung misses you the most.” Jaemin adds, voice as gentle as his grip around the tiny fruits. “He won’t say it, but it’s obvious that he just wants… you, I guess. He’s a sweet kid.”

“He is.” Jeno agrees instantly. “Chenle too. I’m not worried about them because they have each other, but Donghyuck and Renjun…”

Jaemin sighs. “I know.”

“I just want to get over all this so we can all go back to having lunch together and stuff.”

Jaemin tilts his head when they lock eyes, the rainbow lights hit his nose and he looks a bit like he might cry. Jeno rounds the table, quickly moving to stand next to him and Jaemin finally smiles.

“Donghyuck was really good to me when I first came here. He explained things to me so well. I wasn’t worried about death because he looked so chill and happy. I thought: ‘Whoa, this really must be a nice place.’ And it was like, I didn’t have to care about anyone else for a second.” 

Jaemin speaks more with the way his eyes widen and his hands start moving all around than with his words, it makes Jeno’s heart skip a couple beats.

“Renjun smiled that cute little smile of his when I started asking him about you. Every time I even got close, he’d start saying ‘no, I don’t wanna talk about Jeno again!’ but he’d do it, even when I didn’t ask anything.” He shakes his head and finally, there are teeth on his smile. It’s still gentle and dim, but it feels warmer this time. “I think I started liking you because I could see that your friends liked you so much.”

“They like you,” Jeno whispers right into Jaemin’s ear, like it’s a secret that only the two of them can know about. 

“I like them too, and I like you the most.” 

He kisses Jeno’s cheek and Jeno blushes, so he steals a grape from Jaemin in return for all the trouble.

“That’s why I want you guys to make up and stop being so angsty. You can’t be angsty for the rest of eternity.” 

Jaemin grabs Jeno’s cheeks with one hand and Jeno pouts. 

“Make sure you take some bananas with you before we leave, a little bird told me Jisung has been begging for a piece of banana bread the whole week.”

Jeno makes the perfect banana bread on his fifth try. 

Jisung doesn't ask him where he’s going in the middle of the night and Jeno doesn’t say much, but the question is already there, hanging in the air between their two beds and keeping Jisung awake until Jeno comes back with empty hands and a frown on his face.

Jeno had never been one to cook, say the least, but banana bread seems easy enough that he manages to make a couple loaves that taste just fine, but not perfect. Something’s missing, even when Jeno uses different recipes and different kinds of ingredients. 

Jaemin helps him two times, stepping into the kitchen like he already knows it and laughing at Jeno’s small missteps, but neither of those are enough to satisfy Jeno.

He asks the cooks in the kitchen when the morning comes and breakfast preparations start, he tries to remember every piece of advice, but it still feels off.

On the fifth night, the kitchen door opens and Jeno freezes.

“Well, here you are.”

Donghyuck walks in with his hands in his pockets and his face mostly hidden by the hood of his sweater. He looks just as tired as Jeno feels, the white uniform a strange contrast with the way his hair seems to stick out in all directions and his eyes are puffy. 

Jeno turns off the stand mixer and turns his whole body to him so he can give Donghyuck all of his attention.

“Yeah.” He says, still dumbfounded. “I’m-uh, it’s banana bread.”

“That’s cool. I like banana bread.” 

Donghyuck is no stranger to arguments. He and Jeno had had more fights than any of them can really recall, but the feelings now are different. It feels like something deeper than a fight. Something that cut right through the bond the two of them always had and Jeno doesn’t seem to be able to patch up just yet. 

Donghyuck is a yeller, he raises his voice and pushes and punches his way into winning any argument. He’s bold and fast, difficult to rile up but impossible to cool down once he’s all in.

Now, he just looks small, cracking up at the edges. There’s no pushing or punching, so Jeno doesn't know what to do with his hands. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeno says while he peels his bananas. “Hyuck, seriously, I am. I know… it was a stupid thing and it was my idea, not Jaemin’s. I didn’t think about what would happen, I just wanted to-”

“Get away?”

Jeno looks at him, for real this time. There are too many sides of Donghyuck to remember, too much of him to present when he introduces him to new people. He’s bold and bright, and then he’s quiet and easily driven by his constant overthinking. 

“Yeah.” Jeno agrees carefully. “It’s crazy how much you can forget about the world when you’re there.”

Jeno mashes his bananas until he gets a thick paste. He adds them to his mix of brown sugar, butter, and eggs slowly and he mixes everything until it looks even. 

He peeks at Donghyuck without really turning his head, and he’s staring, silently following Jeno’s hands as Jeno grabs the flour. 

“I’m sorry too.” Donghyuck finally says and Jeno hums, pretends his chest doesn’t flutter. “I think… the kids are not mad at you or at Jaemin, they really were just dead worried. I know Jisung is dying to make things go back to normal so he can pick on you again.”

“They can be mad, I made them worry,” Jeno argues and then puts the bag of flour down. 

“But they aren’t, Jen.”

“And you?”

Donghyuck blinks. “Of course I’m not mad at you.”

There’s a couple of blisters on Jeno’s fingers, from accidentally touching the loaf pan with his bare hands while it was still hot, and they hurt when the wet parts of the mixtures touch them and they also hurt now, when Jeno finally unclenches his hands and lets them lay flat on the counter. 

“Jeno, Junnie isn’t mad either. I know he’s acting a little- he isn’t mad, okay?” 

When Donghyuck places a hand on his shoulder, Jeno deflates. There’s so much tension that he’s been holding on to, the minutes in which Jaemin lets him relax do nothing when he’s pent up all the remaining time. 

“Look at me, Jeno. Jeno. We’re not mad. Renjun and Jisung and Lele and me. We love you. I know you hate hearing it and I absolutely hate saying it, but it’s like that.”

Jeno has never been much of a crier, neither the saddest nor the happiest moments of his life could get a tear out of him. 

It used to worry Renjun. He would scold Jeno for trying to hide his feelings and it would make Donghyuck laugh when Jeno looked painfully out of place in situations where everyone was moved except for him. 

He isn’t one to cry unless he feels defeated, wrong. Jeno only cries when he’s frustrated.

The kitchen smells like eggs and bananas and Donghyuck is sniffling next to him, so Jeno begs, but his cheeks are the ones that are wet. 

“Don’t cry.”

“Jen, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I took him to the forest too, so I get it. I do. It’s because I get it that I’m so upset.”

Jeno lifts his head and Donghyuck’s eyes are big and glossy, his hands trembling in front of his face. 

“I was so angry, Jeno. You took all of his hard work and rejected it like it was nothing. All the time, when I wanted him to pay attention to me, he was thinking of you.”

His nose is stuffy and eyes are blurry. It’s hard to think. 

“Minhyung?” 

Banana, eggs and the sight of Donghyuck becoming smaller and smaller right in front of him. It’s suffocating.

“It felt so- unfair. I couldn’t... he told me that I shouldn’t be mad, so I tried not to be, but he was so sad.” Donghyuck shakes his head and takes a deep breath, but the waterfall won't relent. “You were the first script he ever got rejected, you know? It was like he couldn’t shake it off.”

“I didn’t…” Jeno looks at his hands, he can feel the blisters but he can hardly tell them apart from the blurry shapes that his fingers are. “You never told me you knew Minhyung.”

“Well...” Donghyuck puffs out what is meant to be a laugh but doesn’t quite sound like one. “I did try my best to keep you two away from each other. I was a bit jealous. Just a bit.”

“I just- I mean-” Jeno’s dizzy, maybe his whole body is finally reacting to so many nights baking and then eating warm banana bread before bed. The floor spins underneath him. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, I can’t be mad at you for that.”

They talk about Minhyung as if Minhyung happened to simply be sleeping in his dorm instead of gone, and it feels different from any other time Minhyung has been brought up. Jeno rarely remembers him for anything other than the fact he wrote the script for the movie Jeno later rejected, and it’s nice to know Minhyung had been so much more than that. 

Jeno listens to Donghyuck until the two of them are laughing instead of holding back tears. Jeno says sorry two more times: one for escaping to the forest, one for making Minhyung so miserable and Donghyuck pushes his shoulder playfully, tells him he should cut it out already, there’s really nothing Jeno could have done. 

“I took him to the forest too, one night. I didn’t tell anybody and there was no one out there to see us.” Jeno offers him water and Donghyuck drinks slowly. “I really wanted us to get lost, Jeno. I wasn’t thinking. I was so upset, with you and with everyone who wasn’t doing something to make him better. I felt like I was the only one who cared. So I took him to the forest at night and I dragged him deep and I thought ‘if we get lost, at least we’ll be together’ it was such a selfish thing to do.”

“I don’t know why I took Jaemin there.” Jeno confesses. “I think, deep down, I knew that whether or not we made it out, I would be okay with it.”

Donghyuck looks at him with new eyes, softer and round. It’s too late for sweets, but Jeno offers him a piece of banana bread and Donghyuck laughs before munching on it happily. 

“Those who are in love always do the stupidest things uh, Jeno Lee?” 

Jeno scoffs. “Tell me about it.”

Jeno forgets to ask what happened afterwards and if Donghyuck knows where Minhyung went. Maybe he doesn’t forget, but either way they both go back to their rooms after Donghyuck convinces him they should hug it out.

Hugs are awkward, but Donghyuck always holds him very tight, arms holding him together so Jeno can let his bones crack and fall apart.

Jisung’s hugs are even more awkward, a pat on the back and that’s all, but he does linger for a bit longer when Jeno presents him with a couple slices of banana bread and teary apologies. 

He touches Jisung’s hair as he cries softly on Jeno’s shoulder and decides it’s okay to stay, if only to make sure Jisung can allow himself to be a kid for a bit longer, maybe for forever if possible.

In the morning, Jeno wakes up before the building itself does.

“Hm? I thought you had given me all your drafts for this week, Jen” 

Taeil is having ice tea for breakfast when Jeno knocks on the door of his small office. Jeno walks in with a polite greeting and an apologetic smile, draft and blue-covered book in hand and Taeil puts his bowl aside to give him all of his attention. 

There’s only a desk and three chairs, a small sofa and copies of scripts stacked in tall piles around the tiny room. Jeno steps in carefully and leaves his script on Taeil’s desk before sitting down.

“This one wasn’t on my weekly scheduled books,” Jeno explains. “This one is a long overdue, but I think it’s probably the best one I’ve ever written, so please-” He puts his hands and the table and lets his head rest on top of them, the best respectful bow he can manage to present Taeil with without making too much of a fuss. “-take good care of it.”

“Ah, ah, ah, Jeno, what is this?” Taeil stutters, a bit flustered. “Raise your head, kid. I will work hard, since you’re acting like this.”

“Thank you.” He looks up and Taeil is frowning, but Jeno tries his best to make his smile look genuine. “I really want this one to get approved.”

Renjun is on the storage room before Jeno on Friday, when Jeno storms in with one last unfinished book and stops dead on his tracks the moment he sees Renjun sitting there without a care.

It feels like a bad comedy to be standing at the door of the small dark room, taking in Renjun’s profile as he watches a movie from the chair where Jeno sat a thousand times before.

“Whose is it?” Jeno whispers, carefully closing the door behind him to put the room in shadows again. 

“If you already know, then why you ask?” Renjun asks bitterly, but there’s really not enough sourness behind his words, so Jeno gets closer and sits on the floor next to him. 

Renjun pauses the movie and looks down to find Jeno’s eyes in the tinted lights of the rudimentary screen. He looks big and imposing, from underneath, but Jeno isn’t scared of him the way he’s scared of most things that are bigger than him. 

“I talked to Donghyuck the other night.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Renjun says with a soft nod before he turns the movie back on. 

Jeno can’t see Sicheng’s face, but there’s a man that looks a lot like him drinking from a small cup while he silently reads the newspaper. The kitchen is ample and modern, mostly tinted in shades of grey and black. It feels cold, just like the man himself. 

“He came to my room and slept on my bed. Yerim said she could ditch, but I just told her I would stay awake.” Renjun adds quietly, almost as if he didn't want the man with the newspaper to hear him.

In the movie, the kitchen door opens and a small child with big ears and even bigger eyes walks in. The man lifts his eyes from the newspaper and the moment his eyes meet the child, he changes. He becomes brighter, a smile takes over his deep frown and the child beams back at him. He’s missing one of his front teeth.

“What are they saying?” Jeno asks Renjun in another whisper.

“虎子 means tiger cub or brave young man. That man is the kid’s father. Probably.” Renjun sinks a little deeper into the chair, back slouched, eyes half-closed. “He’s saying ‘father, you won’t believe, you won’t believe.’ and his accent is really thick… maybe he’s just too excited and missing some teeth.”

Jeno hums and stays quiet as the scene develops. He doesn’t understand what the kid is so excited about, but his father clearly does and his eyes widen in shared excitement before he jumps off his chair and picks the small child up in a tight hug. The kid is laughing, but it sounds a bit like he’s yelling.

“He passed all of his exams. He did well this year.” Renjun explains and his voice sounds even fainter, smaller. “He’s asking if he can focus on his dancing now, and his father is explaining that he can, as long as he keeps up the good grades.”

“That’s a sweet memory to go back to.” Jeno offers and Renjun smiles a little. 

“I don’t know if it’s an actual memory or just something he always wanted. I hope he actually got to live this moment.” 

He only turns to look at Jeno when the credits start rolling. 

“Say sorry, Jeno.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeno says without missing a beat.

“Good. I forgive you.”

“Draw for Jaemin’s movie, Injun,” Jeno says next.

“Of course.” And then, “I’m glad you’re being mature enough to let him go.”

Jeno finds Hyunjin’s name on the credits and then Donghae’s. The man always makes the most delicate movies and his work is easy to tell apart from the rest. Taeyong admires him and Jeno fears him a little. 

“It’s what he deserves.” He tells Renjun before he kneels up to get a better view of Renjun’s gentle face, his quick blinking and there’s a slight tremble on his lip. “Good people deserve happy endings.”

“Aren’t we good people?” It sounds strangled, like Renjun himself tried to stop the words from coming out of his mouth and failed.

Jeno looks down at his hand and there’s a small scar of an old paper cut on the side of his index finger. It’s almost healed, but he keeps resting the edge of the books he reads in it, so it always re-opens.

“Ours is getting to see the people we love being happy forever.”

Jeno runs into Jaemin with a book between his hands in the evening, while looking for a new place to write his final set of scripts. 

He doesn’t notice Jeno sitting opposite of him, too distracted to feel his stare from the other side of the table, so Jeno lets his pen rest on top of his journal and stares intently at Jaemin instead. 

Jaemin is the main reason why Jeno now spends more time at the library. Jisung and Chenle finally starting to tease him like they always do doesn’t keep Jeno from spending most of his free time there in hopes of catching Jaemin frowning down at a book, biting on his thumbnail and slowly letting his jaw fall as unexpected events unfold. 

The book he’s reading is thin, probably from a young person, and the covers look old, but only by a couple of decades. Jeno doesn’t really care to know who Jaemin is reading, but he does care about Jaemin’s strange obsession for older books, souls who already have movies or have been working in the building for years. It’s endearing.

“What’s happening?” Jeno finally asks when he grows tired of not having Jaemin’s eyes on him.

“Uh?” Jaemin looks up with his eyes wide open and Jeno stifles a laugh. “Ah, Jen, why are you looking at me like a creepy old man? Just say something if you’re gonna sit right in front of me.”

“You’re so pretty, Jaemin, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Gross.” but Jaemin’s smiling with all of his teeth and he puts the book down to reach across the table and intertwine Jeno’s fingers with his. “Jeno, why are you trying to take my place as the sappy one, uh? I already carry enough grease for the two of us, thank you very much.”

Jeno tells Jaemin about Renjun while he presses each of Jaemin’s knuckles with his thumb and Jaemin listens to him with his head resting on the heel of his palm. He promises Jaemin to make him banana bread sometime and Jaemin tells Jeno he will cook for him if he does, any meal Jeno wants.

There’s a pile of books that stands unread right next to each of them, yet they keep talking in quiet whispers and refuse to leave the library until Jaemin asks him if Jeno wants to go to his room. 

He doesn’t know Jaemin’s roommate yet, but Jaemin probably doesn’t see the guy often either, seeing as he’s a library workshop worker.

“Who were you reading about?” Jeno asks as he walks in behind Jaemin. 

“A guy who had a lovely family and a good future ahead of him,” Jaemin says and it sounds surprisingly sad. “He was a sweet guy. The youngest and the only male, so he was spoiled rotten.”

Jeno sits on Jaemin’s bed and watches Jaemin move around fast, pretending to care about keeping the place neat since Jeno is acting as a guest.

“And he died young, despite having a perfect family.” Jeno predicts with a sigh.

“That’s what’s so sad about his book,” Jaemin says as he puts said book on top of the pile on his desk and moves to pick up discarded items of clothing that cover the floor like white confetti. “I wonder what kind of great things he could have done, if he hadn’t lived in the same neighborhood as the wrong people.”

Jeno tilts his head. “I thought you said he was a good, spoiled kid.”

“Yes, that’s why it was so unfair.” His fingers linger on the book as a caress and Jeno can almost feel it on his own cheek. “What happened to him, it was so cruel, Jen. I think he felt especially guilty because many suffered the same unfair fate as him. His father also suffered from the consequences of him being grouped with the KPA. He never did the things they accused him of, but he still died. They still killed him.”

“Nana,” Jeno tries and Jaemin finally lets go of the book to look at him. “Don’t read about such sad people. I’ll give you happier books.”

Three days later, Jeno’s script for a movie based on the book for entry NJM12;9;22;5;19, NAME: Na Jaemin, gets sent back downstairs with a seal of approval tinted in green on the first page.

No major changes made. 

Ready for production.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, hopefully I'll have the last part beta-ed by Wednesday. I tried really hard to not make this one too long and I actually took some big chunks out so I hope it still holds up well enough. 
> 
> Again, thank you for giving my messy rambling a chance.


	3. Coda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best to shorten this one but I'm weirdly attached to some bits and I simply couldn't. Kill your darlings, but I guess not your dearest.

There’s a special beauty that comes with death. 

Jeno reads about people who are a little too aware of how short their time on earth is, and the way they navigate life is vastly different from those who think they still have the rest of eternity: every second that they get to live becomes a second that they don’t want to waste. Every day has to be memorable. There’s no time to sit and let the day go by, so there’s never too much hesitation on the things they want to do, see, and experience. 

It’s rather fascinating, all humans are aware of their own mortality, but only those who can clearly see the place where the skyline meets the end of the green fields, seem to understand how limited the space they’re currently walking on actually is. 

Jeno feeds Jaemin pork belly during lunch, and with every tick of the clock, he wonders who is gonna feed him when Jaemin isn’t there to do so.

“That’s disgusting.”

Renjun would never feed him, that’s for sure. 

They’re waiting for Donghyuck’s break to start with enough side dishes and bowls of rice to keep them all entertained for the remaining twenty-five minutes. There’s still a bit of whiplash that comes from having Jaemin sitting right in front of Renjun. Same table. Same clothes. They could even be talking about the same movies or complaining about the same set of higher-ups.

“Renjun, are you gay?”

Jeno chokes on his food.

“What the fuck, Jaemin? What are you even asking, uh? What the fuck was that?”

“I’m gay,” Jaemin says easily, looking at Renjun straight in the eye as the latter tries his best to look away. “I’m asking because if you want to date me or Jeno, we’re already dating each other.”

“Oh, oh, oh. Oh, no. Nope. Never in a million years.” 

Jeno finally manages to breathe in enough air to laugh at Renjun’s flushed face. Jaemin turns to smile at him. 

“I’m so out of both of your leagues, neither of you could even afford half of me.”

“So, who’s in your league?” Jaemin asks before handing Jeno his own glass of water. “I know there’s a guy in the library workshop that’s head over heels for you, but if he doesn’t know if you are… oh, so you are.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You’re so red right now, I wish you could see it.”

“You’re talking about embarrassing things!”

“It’s cool if you’re gay, it’s not embarrassing.” Jeno interrupts. It’s a new and strange feeling, to talk back against Renjun’s taunts, but it’s easier when Jaemin is so close to him. “And I think it would be good to set you up with someone who’s down there on your ‘league’ or whatever.”

“I don’t need dating advice from you, losers.” He seems to realize too late that he shouldn’t finish his sentence there, face already red again when he lifts his gaze to speak up again. “And I’m not gay! I apparently had a very cute girlfriend before I died.”

Donghyuck comes carrying more drinks. He sits next to Renjun and makes faces at Jeno, but the way he looks sadly at the empty space next to Jaemin makes it obvious that he would much rather sit there and spread his obnoxiousness into Jaemin.

“Did I have a girlfriend?” Jaemin asks as he hands Donghyuck some side dishes. “Actually, I don’t want to know, I was a sad motherfucker. Let’s talk about you.”

“I don’t know anything about my past self.” Jeno smiles, content with the fact he can be dragged for anything else, but for his past self.

“Jeno died during weird times.” Renjun speaks then, more serious. “I didn’t read his book, obviously, but many people died in the country when Jeno did, so those were… sad days, I guess. People coming back from the war in Japan and people still at war in Korea. Really weird.”

Jeno peeks at Jaemin from the corner of his eye and finds him staring at his food intently, moving the meat around with his chopsticks and pushing away the pieces of rice that fell into his plate as he ate from the bowl.

"It's a pity he didn't get heaven then, since he had to live through so much." Jaemin says and Jeno feels everyone's eyes shift on their direction only to then move away the moment after

“Minhyung told me once that Jeno was a spoiled kid.” Donghyuck speaks when the atmosphere becomes a little too tense.

“Was I?”

“The youngest are usually the most annoying. That’s just a fact.”

“Weren’t you the youngest too?” Renjun teases, poking Hyuck on the ribs with an accusatory finger. 

“I had a twin! And not one, but two younger gremlins! Two!”

“Ah, is that so? Then how come you’re so annoying now?”

It’s a good thing that they’re sitting around Jeno’s friends and that Jaemin is sitting so close. It gives Jeno another chance to look at him without Jaemin noticing. 

The Jaemin that quietly sits among Jeno’s friends and lets himself blend in with the background until he raises his voice and draws every single pair of eyes back to him, is the one version of him Jeno finds the most intriguing. It’s very hard to read neutral Jaemin. 

He’s not angry or sad, just relaxed enough that he doesn’t feel the need to fill every beat of silence with a joke. He’s calm, Jeno stares because he worries his calmness might turn into something else, but it’s never clear.

“Baby acorn,” Jaemin calls him in a sweet voice and both Donghyuck and Renjun pretend they’re about to empty their guts right there. “Stop looking at me so much, hm, your friends are gonna get jealous.” 

The beauty of endings is that one might find that the current story becomes prettier. 

An ending doesn’t change anything, it has always been there, but being aware of it makes it easier to cling to every second with such desperation that everything becomes worthy of attention and thus, breathtakingly beautiful.

Jeno’s movie gets pushed back. It’s not part of the planned schedule anymore, so it takes them weeks to even make room for someone to pick up the script without making it obvious that they’re cramming an entire production in between two others. 

Waiting is nerve-wracking, keeps him awake at night and makes him snappy during the day. 

Jaemin gives him quizzical looks as they share lazy meals and Jeno smiles, kisses his temple before telling Jaemin that he’s just anxious about bad scripts.

It’s Taeyong, of course, the one who takes on the role of making his Jaemin’s movie, because Jeno wouldn’t ask anybody else and because he knows Taeyong would go far and beyond to keep Jeno safe if someone decides to ask too many questions.

“Oh, oh, Jeno are you sure? He seems so happy to be with you.”

Jeno bites his lip. “Movies guarantee eternal happiness.”

“Hmm, there’s a chance he will say no, though,” Youngho adds as he peeks at the script from behind Taeyong’s shoulder. 

He’s so tall and lanky that Taeyong becomes uncannily small in comparison.

“I have my tricks,” Jeno says, looking down at his own hands and following the lines of a small doodle Jaemin made on his palm earlier that day.

“I know it would be so easy to trap him into the viewing room and wait until the movie is over to open the door, but that wouldn't be fair.” Taeyong answers solemnly. 

He closes the script and looks down at the cover. Jeno’s name is underneath Jaemin’s, and the green stamp of approval is at the bottom of the page. 

“And it’s very… selfless to do this for him; but let him stay, if he wants to.”

Youngho frowns and Jeno does too, probably for different reasons.

“Wouldn’t you want to have the person you love be happy for the rest of eternity?”

“Well-” Taeyong stutters. “I don’t know, actually, it’s not something I think about often. I like to believe I can make those I love just a bit happier by cherishing and protecting them, so it’s not a dilemma I personally have.” 

“I also think people are allowed to make choices.” Youngho adds. “Who is to say Jaemin here wants eternal happiness? Maybe he can deal with a bit of sadness as long as other things are guaranteed.” He looks down at Jeno, impassive, his voice isn’t as deep as one would expect but his accent makes Jeno pay too much attention to each of his words.

It’s the one thing Jeno never sat down to think about for long enough. The idea of never seeing Jaemin again pains him enough to keep him awake at night, but he had always believed it to be the best decision he could take for him right now. 

He had thought about Jaemin saying no to his movie and simply brushed it off as a matter of talking him out of any objections. 

“We’ll work hard,” Youngho announces when the silence stretches for far too long. “Thank you for your script, Jen, yours are always great to work with.”

The smile Youngho gives him is genuine, but the whole conversation leaves a bad aftertaste on Jeno’s mouth.

He can’t sleep.

It’s easy to forget the fact that they don’t necessarily need to sleep when he and everyone he knows have been forcing themselves into at least seven hours of slumber at a time just for the sake of keeping a routine. His limbs feel heavy, head aching, eyes barely opening as he makes his way around the building and tries to read at least one page before giving up with a groan.

There’s a difference between the kind of insomnia he gets from sleeping too much during the day or the one that comes when he misses the small window of deep tiredness after a long day and that usually leaves him exhausted, yet awake. This insomnia makes him restless, deeply tired yet so awake he can’t find it himself to stay still on his bed. He tosses and turns, sits up and moves the covers around before lying down again. Nothing. He still ends up getting up hours before the sun rises, Jisung as fast asleep on the bed next to him as the rest of the entire building seems to be.

“Jeno?”

He shakes his head and looks up from where he’s sitting down only to find Taeil looking at him with the same worried expression he’s been carrying around every time Jeno is in frame. It makes Jeno’s stomach turn inside of him.

“Oh, Taeil, didn’t see you there. Hello.” He laughs tensely and springs off his chair to bow quickly at Taeil before shaking his hand. He’s sweating. “Sorry about-”

“Is everything okay, Jeno?” Taeil’s grip becomes tighter around his hand, not painfully so, but strong enough that Jeno feels his bones start to weaken, legs shaking. He’s cold. 

“I think I’m about to be sick.” His voice sounds absent, almost like the sound didn’t come from his own mouth. 

“Oh, you can’t be sick, Jen,” Taeil reassures him, but he still puts his free hand on Jeno’s shoulder and pushes him to sit down again. 

“What is it with you, Jeno? You’ve been late with your drafts again. People are asking because you’ve always been so efficient and we’re worried there’s something bothering you. Something that can be taken care of.”

“Uhm-” 

Jaemin appears in his mind the way dreams shift without warning while you sleep. One second his mind is blank, and the next, it’s filled with snippets of every second Jeno gets to spend around him. His stomach turns again. 

“I’m distracted.” He says, voice small. It’s not entirely a lie.

Taeil chuckles. “Oh, we can see that.”

“Sorry-”

“Jeno, I always try to be more... easy on you guys. More laid back. I like it when you can talk to me with confidence. I don’t dig this whole ‘I’m a higher up, so talk to me like so’ thing that most people have going on. I like this, we’re talking now, you’re telling me you’ve been too distracted with, well, Na Jaemin, I’m guessing, and I think that’s a good thing!”

“Good?” He feels warm all over, and the shift from cold sweats to blushing from head to toe makes him feel even dizzier than before. 

“I can tell everyone you’re just changing your, uh, work dynamic. Yes. We can even have some of your books reassigned if you-”

“No!” Jeno closes his eyes. In and out. Taeil is still a superior and he shouldn’t be yelling. “Sorry, I mean, please don’t. I’ll still take five weekly books. I’m going to find a balance between my work and my… distractions. Thanks for your concerns.”

“Jeno-” 

Taeil sighs and shakes his shoulder a little. He’s uncomfortable, from what Jeno can tell, but he’s trying very hard and it makes Jeno want to cry a little. 

“This is the afterlife, kid! You have nothing to prove to anyone! You wanna mess around with your man and slack off a little? That’s cool! Seriously, Jeno, you don’t have to be such a goody-two-shoes all the time.”

Jeno finishes one of his books before the sun is down, because someone with such a high rank as Taeil telling him people are talking about him works perfectly to help him get things done. He starts the outline for a script and manages to avoid every distraction before he slips back into his room. It’s late.

Jisung comes back even later, finds Jeno laying down on top of his covers and simply turns off the lights with a sigh after stepping out of his boots. 

“Jisung.” Jeno whispers the moment he hears Jisung letting out a final sigh before lifting the covers up to his nose. 

“Jeno, it’s been days, just go to sleep.”

“Do you think I’m a good person?”

Jeno hears rather than sees Jisung stirring under his covers and holding his breath for a second that lasts a little too long. 

“Sure.” The younger one says simply. “I mean, you have this really strong moral compass or whatever and you treat everyone with a little bit too much politeness. I don’t know. Can we sleep now?”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry.” Jeno rolls over his body to face Jisung even though he still can’t quite make out his features in between the shadows. “I just think-”

“Is this about Jaemin?”

Jeno opens his mouth only to close it again a moment later. “Yes.”

“I think he deserves a good afterlife and all that, if that’s what you’re getting to.” 

“Okay.”

“I also think, I don’t know, but if you were me and Jaemin was, let’s say, Chenle… not that Chenle is like, my boyfriend or anything, but like, he’s special to me. We’re friends. He’s not vital to my existence or something gay like that, he’s just a very good friend of mine and-”

“Jisung” Jeno smiles, it feels easy, for once. “I get it.”

“Right, so, if it was me and I had to send Chenle off, knowing that, well I’m gonna miss him, but also you! And Hyuck are gonna miss him, and Renjun is gonna miss him the most. Chenle told me that, sometimes, Renjun forgets certain words in Chinese and he gets really upset, so it’s good that he has someone he can speak in Chinese with. So everyone’s gonna miss him and I feel-” Jisung trails off and Jeno sits up, resting his weight on his forearms.

“What is it?”

“It’s stupid because there’s no negative thing in your happy place. At least I don’t think?” He hears Jisung moving again, and from the shape of it, Jeno knows he’s sitting up now, the comforter now thrown over his head. “But I wonder, if I were to send Chenle off, would he be happy? I think he’s happy here. At least I hope he is. Would he be… mad, that I sent him off? Did his happy memory change ever since he first came here? I wonder about all those things.” 

Jeno can almost see the way Jisung’s shoulders fall.

“I think we all want everyone here to be happy forever, but it’s- hard, sometimes. I don’t know what I’d do, to be honest.”

Jeno tells him to go back to sleep, so Jisung does so with one last yawn.

He finishes his scripts in blurs. The days blend together and so do the books and he reads, the words he mindlessly writes only to get his scripts sent back to him with bright question marks and long notes on what he has to change. 

He’s almost back on track, even when his scripts sound half-assed and quickly done half of the time. He has nothing left to pour from inside of him into his work anymore and he trusts Taeyong to be the one to make masterpieces out of every piece of crap Jeno presents him with, because he has always done just that.

Amidst everything messily falling back in place, Jaemin still senses his stress and acts upon it without trying to force answers out of Jeno: he makes tea instead of coffee for the two of them to share every morning, he forces Jeno to lie down for longer before Jeno reluctantly has to go back to his book. He’s gentle, softer, even when Jeno gets snappy and easily frustrated, Jaemin breathes slowly and pets Jeno’s hair until he comes back down. 

It’s so easy to forget about everything else when Jaemin is talking and Jeno is watching the way his lips transform into a pout without Jaemin even noticing it. The moments he gets to share with Jaemin truly are the closest he can get to the freshness of a good night of sleep.

“I love you,” Jeno says while Jaemin makes delighted sounds at each of the strawberries he stuffs his mouth with. 

“Oh?” Jaemin swallows. “That’s new. I love you too.” He kisses Jeno and Jeno can taste all the strawberries he just swallowed. It’s sweet yet a bit sour.

“Stay.” Jeno pleads, putting a hand on Jaemin’s neck to keep his face close to his own when Jaemin tries to sit back. 

“Jeno?” Jaemin kisses him again, sweetly and short, before holding Jeno’s face with both his hands. “What is it?”

Jeno sighs and lets his head fall against Jaemin’s shoulders. It feels secure there, with his face hidden behind Jaemin’s neck and all of his problems so far away that the only thing he should be thinking about is the way Jaemin smells like lavender and the little sparkle of life that it’s still in him.

“I miss you when you’re gone.” Jeno struggles between his teeth. It’s not a lie, but not the whole truth either. 

“Okay. Let’s spend more time together then.”

“Okay.”

“What else?”

“Huh?” Jeno lifts his head and finds Jaemin’s eyes are flaming, yet cold, somehow, it’s a bit nerve-wracking. 

“What else is worrying you? Everything that worries you, I want to make it go away.” 

His chest feels tight, maybe Jaemin is holding him a bit too closely. 

“I’m fine!” He argues and Jaemin raises a brow at him. “Seriously, Nana, I’m just stressed.”

“From what? Work? We can make it work, if it’s really getting too hard for you we can talk to the higher-ups and maybe get them to make a new plan for you. I know there are writers out there that read one book every three weeks and it works just fine for them.”

“No, I mean, it’s just-”

“What? What is it, Jen? I just wanna help you, but you’ve been so… evasive, it’s like you don’t even want to be around me, your mind is always somewhere else.”

It stings, right where the wounds are fresh still. 

“I’m sorry.”

Jaemin huffs, hard enough that the thin strands of hair that fall over his eyes get pushed back for a moment. 

“Tell me what it is. I’m worried about you and I want to help, but you have to let me.”

“I’m just worried you might be missing out.”

“Jeno.” Jaemin coos, voice a little strangled. “What could I possibly be missing out on? I’m the happiest I could ever be right now. If anything, I feel bad about you, I wish I could give you some more happiness.”

He makes sure to stay still during sleepless nights, maybe try and force himself to keep his eyes closed until he inevitably falls asleep without bothering Jisung too much, says “You should have Chenle over some time, I can sleep with Jaemin.” when push comes to shove, so he can roam around the building knowing that at least Jisung is getting a good night’s sleep.

He pays attention to everything Donghyuck says, no matter how banal, and lets Renjun pick on him only two times each lunch before snapping back with a well thought out comeback. 

It works, for the most part, it’s the closest Jeno has been to going back to his old routine of trying to not be noticed. He even spends some time in the storage room reading and pretending to watch movies just for the sake of tradition. 

It’s hard to tell how much of this new routine people actually buy, but nobody is trying to push explanations out of him, so he’s fine until he isn’t.

It doesn’t happen all at once, but Jeno doesn’t notice it until it’s piling up so heavy over his shoulders that he can’t even get out of bed anymore. 

“Do you think I’m a good person?” He asks Jisung in the middle of the night and Jisung groans, tired. 

“No.”

Jeno laughs, but the words sting a little more than he had expected them to.

He’s feeding Jaemin something that finally isn’t just his favorite fruit on Saturday while Jaemin smiles dumbly at him when suddenly his expression changes: his eyes grow dark so fast Jeno retracts his arm immediately, scared of having been the one to blow Jaemin’s sparkle away. 

“Hello?” 

Jeno feels cold all over. 

The voice Jaemin is using now sounds different to every other Jeno's heard before, but he’s looking over Jeno’s shoulder, so at least it’s not directed at him. 

“Can we help you?”

“Na Jaemin? Lee Jeno? Nice to meet you guys! I’m Jungwoo, part of the security team.”

“We- we have a security team?” Jeno asks slowly as he turns to see the young man standing in front of him, soft brown hair and a smile that reminds Jeno of an overfilled dumpling. 

Jungwoo is wearing the same oversized hoodie and boots that everyone else wears, blending in perfectly with the rest of the cafeteria and giving no signs of having anything on him to threaten them with except for the promise of danger in his overly sweet voice. 

“Yes! Probably don’t hear about us too often, our job is super boring, like, literally all I do is look at security footage and make sure the rules are being followed. All day. God I know, it’s awful.”

Jeno feels Jaemin’s hand becoming a claw around his waist. It hurts, but maybe everything hurts and Jeno is tensing up a bit too much. 

“How can we help you, Jungwoo? Can I just call you Jungwoo? I’m sure we didn’t have a big age gap when we were alive.” Jaemin starts confidently, makes a point of hugging Jeno from behind and resting his chin on Jeno’s shoulder as a way of making his presence even more noticeable. A small bird opening its wings to try and persuade a predator.

“Right! Sure, Jungwoo is perfectly fine! I actually hate when people try to be overly respectful with me, like, okay Bonnie and Clyde, I’m not here to send you to hell, we just wanna talk, you know?” 

Jeno swallows, but there’s still a lump on his throat. “Right.”

“Right! So, you guys coming with me? We have a couple of questions.”

Jeno has been working for the building of the afterlife for longer than he was alive on earth, as far as he can remember. There’s no room Jeno hasn’t been in, not a door that he hasn’t opened to snoop around and maybe uncover some hidden secret that nobody else knew about. 

There’s no reason to believe that there could be an entire team that nobody else had ever mentioned before, an entire team that Renjun had never warned Jeno about. Renjun has always been the one keeping Jeno and Donghyuck in line, trying to set an example for the kids, always making sure everyone was aware of every danger.

Jungwoo pushes a door that blends in perfectly with the walls and Jeno’s stomach drops yet again. 

It makes no sense. 

“So, this… security team, is it a new thing or why haven’t I ever heard of you guys?” Jeno asks as they walk through narrow hallways that are poorly illuminated at best.

“Well, if you’ve never heard of us, then I’m guessing you’ve been staying out of trouble.” Jungwoo simply says.

“But- but my friend breaks the rules often. Lee Donghyuck? He’s the reason we don’t have birthday parties. Plus, I know-”

“No way! I know that kid! Well, not like, know _know_ , but everyone in the security team has heard of him.” Jungwoo chuckles and Jeno turns to give Jaemin a look. Jaemin shrugs in response, just as confused. “Donghyuck was involved in a case not so long ago, I think the higher-ups are still trying to make it up for him so he’s in, how you’d say it- a white list of sorts.”

“Minhyung and the forest.” Jeno nods, but his brows are still deeply furrowed. “Right. Okay, but I’ve heard of people getting punished for breaking the rules and it’s always done by higher ups.”

“Well, there’s a big difference between pissing off some higher-ups and actually breaking more than three major rules, you see.” Jungwoo laughs again. He seems to have an easy laugh and this fact only makes Jeno even more uncomfortable. “I imagine you’ve never met someone who got into this much trouble because, well, you know.”

“Where are we going, exactly?” Jaemin interrupts, quickly hurrying his pace to stand next to Jeno.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. We’re going to go see my very own higher-up. Cool dude, kinda dorky, super cute, you guys are gonna love him.”

The hall is too narrow for all the three of them to walk side by side, Jeno and Jaemin walk quietly behind Jungwoo with their shoulders almost touching and Jeno wonders absently if this would be a good time to try and hold Jaemin's hand. It could be their last.

His brain starts to look for a way out, maybe another hidden door that Jeno never knew about, a plan to force Jungwoo into letting them go, could be by force but they could also try to explain their situation with puppy eyes and sad voices. 

He remembers that Jungwoo isn’t holding them hostage with any kind of weapon, no handcuffs around his wrist or chains on their necks, all they would have to do is turn around and run with their hands against the walls until they find the hidden door where they came from. His brain works, yet his legs keep walking, Jungwoo is humming a song and Jaemin isn't looking at him. 

They're both way too quiet.

"I'm sorry, this is scary," Jungwoo smiles back at them, only half-turning the top half of his body. "I wish there was a way to make it better for you guys."

"What exactly are they gonna do to us?" Jaemin asks, his voice crispy with something that sounds too angry to be just nervousness. "Who cares about stupid rules, we're all dead for God's sake!"

"Woah, don't yell, don't yell." Jungwoo lifts his hand and finally stops walking to turn around and get another good look at the both of them. "I'm with you guys! I wish I didn't have to be all mean and stuff, but I also think, if there wasn't a single rule and if there was no one to make sure they're followed suit, would this world even exist? I wonder."

They start walking again. Jaemin's shaking, but he doesn't say anything else.

It only takes them a couple of minutes of walking before they reach a lounge room with white leather sofas and a rug that has probably seen better days. 

The room feels empty with nothing else in it except for the sofas and some abstract paintings on the walls, yet painfully cramped once they all stand there in silence. It’s way smaller than Jeno had anticipated and even when the sofa is large and spacious, he sits with his body almost flushed against Jaemin’s the moment Jungwoo tells them they should get comfortable. 

“We, uhm, we’re here because we went to the forest, right?” Jeno chirps when the silence between them becomes a little too heavy for his liking. 

“Yes and no, actually. After your friend’s incident, we now evaluate every case based on the history, dynamics, and context of each individual. If it was just for that, we might have let you both off, but you two have a long record of going against all advice, it’s actually kind of funny.”

“They can’t kill us again.” Jaemin points out to nobody in particular and Jungwoo nods.

“Yes, yes, of course they can’t!”

“I’m not exactly scared of hell either, if that’s the other option.”

“Hell?” Jungwoo sputters, eyes widening as he examines Jaemin’s profile carefully. Jeno frowns and then tenses up at the sound of Jungwoo cackling. 

“Hell!” He repeats, as if it’s the funniest thing he has ever heard. 

“Oh, children, what hell? There’s no such thing as heaven or hell, just- this. This is all that happens when you die. Who said anything about hell?” 

Jeno blinks and wonders if Jungwoo would be mad at him for throwing up all over the raggedy carpet on the floor. 

Hell has never been something that he could be scared of, but the idea of something worse than that makes his toes crawl inside of his boots. He’s spiraling.

“Right. I don’t know, I guess then I don’t have anything to worry about and we might as well leave since you’re not even making us stay.” Jaemin keeps saying and Jeno feels tempted to go sick on his lap instead, anything to get him to be quiet. 

“Oh? You want to leave? Sorry, sorry, I’m sure he’d meet you guys soon so don’t worry about waiting for long.” Jungwoo tilts his head at them, still amused.

“Jeno, let’s go.” 

“What?” Jeno can’t exactly resist when Jaemin simply stands up and makes Jeno follow suit by grabbing his wrist tight. “Nana-”

“Woah, whoa, whoa. Okay then, I’ll ask if he can hurry up, but-”

“What don’t you get? Are you stupid? We’re leaving because we don’t care about what kind of divine punishment he has. Who even is this guy? God? I don’t give a fuck, man, we’re leaving. What you gonna do? Arrest me? I’d like to see you try.”

“Uh,” It almost feels like a relief to have an interruption, if only for the second it takes Jeno to realize he might be looking at the one man who holds their destiny at the tip of his fingers. “Shit, this is so awkward. I, uhm, hi.” 

He gives them a tiny wave and Jungwoo snorts. 

“Uhm, are you the pair coming in for some high level crimes?” 

They walk in slowly, Jaemin more reluctantly but complacent none the less and Jeno sits on a chair that had probably never been used before while Jaemin stands next to him, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Kunhang, by the way.” He makes a point of picking up the papers messily scattered over his old wooden desk and he blushes when he has to kneel down to pick up the old food wrappers that are peppered on the floor. “Sorry about the mess.”

The office feels even more cramped, with no windows, only old bookshelves taking over the far wall and mess. It all looks like one big mess. 

“I don’t- I mean, I guess it’s a good thing, but we don’t usually have many people down here as you can probably tell.”

“It’s okay.” Jeno says tensely. He feels sorry for the guy, despite everything. He’s tall and clumsy, black hair held away from his face by two tiny plastic clips and white uniform a little yellow. Kunhang himself feels as old as the tiny office they’re all currently in, even if he was most certainly around Jeno’s ago when he died.

“So? What’s our punishment?” Jaemin speaks then. Jeno resists the need to reach out and touch Jaemin’s arm by convincing himself it will only make matters worse. 

“Punishment? Uhm, oh right.” Kunhang opens some drawers and takes out even more yellow folders and old papers that he scatters all over his desk. “What were your names again? I’m a little lost here, to be honest. I just got called back and I was just as surprised as you guys probably are.”

Jeno introduces them both in a quiet voice and Kunhang starts rummaging through his folders while humming a song from an old anime that Jeno recognizes as one Hyuck introduced to him long ago. He still feels queasy and Jaemin still looks tense, but Kunhang is simply the complete opposite of what Jeno was expecting and that alone makes it easier to breathe in and out without choking.

It takes them all at least half an hour to find each file and by then, Jaemin is finally sitting on the chair next to Jeno’s, lap full of papers and shoulders finally slumped into a less tense position. 

“Okay, thanks! That would have taken me forever, I swear.” He taps the edge of the files against his desk as if they weren’t neatly held together by three metal staples each. “Let’s see here. Hmm. Mmhm. Alright, okay.”

“Well?” Jaemin asks, impatient again.

“Right! So here we have a long list of little missteps, the kind that are always overlooked but, you know, don’t exactly help your case, per say. Stealing food, really? I’m pretty sure everyone gets food for free!” 

Kunhang is smiling, almost laughing as he holds the pages up for them to see and points at each of the items, some written in red, but most left on simple black ink. 

“You guys are nuts! Ha! I actually think we’ve had way worse, but it doesn’t happen often so I’m actually surprised that it took breaking a book, trying to pass one of your own as official and making a whole movie based on said fake book -all in the most suspicious amount of time- for you two to get caught.”

“Movie? I didn’t know you even got that far, I thought you hadn’t even finished writing the book.” Jaemin turns and Jeno looks away, cheeks heating up.

“Well-”

“Look, guys, now it’s not the time to discuss this, it’s actually the time to discuss payments.” Suddenly Kunhang is all business again, arms folded over his desk and long face all perfectly still. “What are we talking here?”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s talking years, obviously,” Jeno explains. “We don’t have a currency, just, well, the years we’ve spent here and the ones that we will spend in the future. People want to do what they want when they reach this place, but getting punished often implies spending years doing whatever they want.”

That makes Jaemin squint his eyes, arms crossed again. “Is that the punishment? Years spent doing janitor service or whatever? And the other option is, what exactly? There’s no hell or anything, what happens if we simply don’t pay? We don’t have movies so we’re gonna be working here for the rest of eternity anyways.”

“You do have one though!” Kunhang smiles. He looks as insane as Jungwoo himself.

“Whatever! We’re leaving, you want us to spend years not working on movies? Fine, whatever.”

Jeno opens his mouth and then closes it with a snap when he hears Kunhang make a sound from the back of his throat and then let out a crackle that sounds uncannily similar to Jungwoo’s. “Kid, you’re crazy! Ha! My god, I should vanish you just for talking like that, you’re lucky I’m not adding stuff to your list as we speak.”

“Vanish?” They both say at the same time in completely different tones. 

“Well, of course! You have two options here:” He holds two fingers and grabs one of them with his free hand to emphasize his point. 

“One, you get your movie and your ever after or you stay and get your ever after in the company. It’s the same deal, we really don’t mind how you choose to be happy forever, yada, yada, yada.” He grabs the other finger. 

“Or, two, we make you disappear and your existence simply ceases. There’s no happiness forever and all that crap, just simply kapoosh and you’re gone. I’ve actually only done it a handful of times myself and we actually don’t know what happens, we assume that you disappear and that’s it but I mean,” He shrugs, Jeno shudders.

“Oh, that’s just perfect.” Jaemin sounds frustrated, even more so because he too seems to be at a loss of words. “Wonderful! So it’s happiness forever or the unknown. Great! Could be hell for all we know.”

“Now, now, now, back to numbers then. I’m pretty sure- hmm, yes! Here. Jeno has a couple of years of work under his sleeve already, maybe we can cut some slack there for good behavior and hard work-” Kunhang scribbles over their files with an old pencil that he grabs from a mug containing only shabby writing utensils that Jeno’s sure don’t work for the most part. “But you are the one who committed the biggest offenses, so I can’t promise any great deals here, hope you can understand.”

“Nobody is telling us what we’re supposed to do!” Jaemin protests again. “Is it actually janitor service? Are we going to heavenly jail?”

“Jail? No, no, you’re right. We’re negotiating years of service here.”

“Right, so then-”

“But I guess, working down here wasn’t exactly part of your plan.”

“What?”

“Excuse you?”

“Of course, going back and continuing your lives... non-lives? Whatever, you get it. To keep working upstairs is not an option either of you has right now. We’ve given you chances to improve your behavior and you continue to misbehave so you might as well stay down here where you can’t cause trouble with the most important mechanics of the company and all that.” 

“Oh, right.” Jeno breathes out, he looks down and his hands are shaking. “Down here? So this is hell after all.”

“No such things as hell, kids!”

It is something ridiculous, in the end. Jeno has been dead for longer than he was alive, most probably, yet the numbers Kunhang offers them are the kind that he has to count with his fingers and knuckles and then try to visualize how many zeros there actually are on the cipher by scribbling on his palm with his point finger. It settles on his brain only partly, as if there’s still a part of him waiting for the dream to end and the morning to start, Jisung throwing a pillow at him from the other side of the room for being too loud during the night. He pinches the inside of his forearm, but nothing happens. 

At some point, Jaemin grows deeply quiet, only nodding when prompted with a question and maybe frowning while Kunhang explains their new duties as security monitors: sitting on desks for hours at a time, watching a set of small screens in a small monitor and checking to make sure suspicious activity is never overlooked. 

Jungwoo isn’t waiting outside for them when they finally emerge from Kunhang’s office and Jeno feels surprisingly upset about it. In a way, it felt like Jungwoo was their guardian angel who had guided them all the way here only to then abandon them before they could even thank him or kick him, whichever one Jeno could muster first.

It is Kunhang’s duty, then, to take them through another door and into a kitchen area that looks used and not very well taken care of. He makes a comment about the kitchen being as happy looking as the resident that cooked there and is the only one of the three to laugh at the joke. 

Through the kitchen and another lounge area that looks less cramped and surprisingly cozier, despite the yellowing of the whites, Kunhang introduces them to the main floor which extends way past any expectation Jeno had for it, but seems almost as empty as every other area so far.

“Again, we don’t have that many people coming down here, which is good! But also, yeah, it can get a bit lonely at times.” He scratched his chin absently and Jeno decides Kunhang is a good man put in the worst petition possible. 

He looks too carefree for the burden he carried of punishing unruly souls, and it was obvious by the little slips here and there that he doesn’t quite enjoy his duties. 

The handful of people scattered around the multiple cubicles didn’t bother to look up as they made their way around them, but Jeno tried to make a note to himself to at least try to be nice around those who could potentially be friendly. 

“Uh, so, this is Jeno’s desks and- uh, I guess this can be Jaemin’s so long as you don’t distract each other and all that.” He looks around, uncomfortable. It makes sense now, that the office is so small and retrieve from all the other areas when it’s clear that Kunhang has a strong distaste for open places with little to no furniture or redeeming qualities. 

“Anyways, you already know what to do, but if you have any questions I’ll probably be at my office... unless I’m at my dorm, sleeping, in which case you’re not allowed to have questions.”

Jeno sits down in silence and looks at his reflection on the screen of his new computer. His hair looks unkempt, tossed from all the pulling he made while bargaining for a better deal on his and Jaemin’s sentence. 

“So,” Jaemin says from behind him after Jeno has starred long enough that his face looks strange to his own eyes. “We’re gonna be doing this now.” 

Jeno frowns and punches a hole right through the old monitor when the frown his reflection gives him back looks more menace. 

“Oh wow, okay, you’re bleeding. Let me see that. Here, come here, baby.”

Kunhang looks more pissed about the fact that he has to come back to assign Jeno a new desk than he does about Jeno breaking a perfectly functioning monitor.

It doesn’t take Jaemin long to blend in. Jeno looks at him from the brim of his cubicle divider with something that probably looks like longing from a distance, but it’s more jealousy than anything else.

There are only about twenty people in the area, all of them of different ages and looking at different stages of complete misery and Jaemin already knows the names of everyone who would so much as spare him a look or accept his offers of having lunch with him and Jeno. It makes him miss his friends a tad more when Jaemin is so far away from him.

In reality, both of them are introverts in the sense that quiet, less crowded places is where they thrive the most, but Jeno has the kind of quiet personality that makes him anxious around strangers, too stiff and too awkward; where Jaemin seems to understand people simply by looking at them, he knows the level of humor of a group long before he gets the chance to speak and even when he doesn’t say much, he still manages to get people to like him. 

They finally get to share a bedroom that is located almost at the end of the room's floor, meaning Jeno has to walk through all other doors before reaching the bathroom in the morning and the room is too small for them to drag their beds together and make them be just one, so they either sleep together in Jeno’s bed or blame the heat on their decision to sleep apart in certain nights. Oddly, it’s probably more than what they should be getting, but Jeno doesn’t like dwelling into it.

They usually all have lunch at different times simply because the kitchen doesn’t have the space to host all twenty of them at once, but Jaemin starts cooking for everyone in his vicinity after he notices people giving them looks when he hands Jeno a plate. It’s never twenty people, but five is usually enough to make Jeno a little more quiet than usual. Jaemin sits next to him almost always, a hand on his knee while he eats awkwardly with the other, so Jeno doesn’t really have many complaints. 

Jungwoo pays them occasional visits, brings them tokens from the outside, and makes sure to talk their ears off about people neither Jeno nor Jaemin really know. Jeno does ask him about his friends, about his own scriptwriter who doesn’t seem to be among them, and each time he has a question that is clearly bothering him, Jungwoo just gives him a pitying look and changes the subject without really answering. 

One week passes and then another, Jeno looks down at the bottom of his screen and finds the numbers still look too big for him to even fully grasp and when Jaemin cracks his fingers somewhere near him, he decides he will stop counting. 

“Uhm, nothing to report, unless you’re counting Choi Sohlhee skipping lunch for the third time this week. I think she’s still really sad, but her writer seems like a good person so we shouldn’t be too worried.”

“Yeah, yeah, as long as they’re not getting tortured, I don’t really care about souls who are getting movies done.” Kunhang isn’t really looking at him, too busy with his old folders and a bowl of noodles that looks to be as cold as the rest of the building by now. “How are you guys doing?” He does give Jeno a sweet smile and it feels bad to not be able to fully reciprocate. 

He decides that there’s not much he can complain about, the undergrounds are much colder and he hugs himself while he sits at his desk without realizing it. People are quiet, never excited or even remotely happy to start the day in early mornings when the night shift is over and Jeno’s group has to take over. 

He thinks of Jaemin, probably tapping his foot while he waits on the couch for Jeno to come out, angry yet pretty much not vanished and thinks that it really could be way worse.

“It could be worse.” He says, touching the back of his neck and moving his eyes away from Kunhang. “Jaemin is doing pretty good. He’s troubled and still a bit angry, but I don’t think he would let anyone help him with that.”

“Jaemin is a weird kid.” Kunhang wrinkles his nose. It’s almost cute. “I like him though, he doesn’t like me, obviously, but he does the work just fine and he even cooks for the others which is a bonus. I might take a couple of days off his debt for that.”

The idea of only taking a couple of days off a debt that extends thousands of years almost feels like mockery.

“Anyways-”

“Yeah, yeah, go back and send Jaemin in.” He gets dismissed with a hand gesture, but Kunhang speaks again when Jeno is already at the door. “Good to see you, Jeno. Don’t let the others spread their disease of anger and boredom into you.”

Jaemin is sulking in the waiting room, exactly the same as when Jeno left him, and he only cheers up when Jeno kisses his cheek and sits next to him.

“Don’t let him get to you.” He tells Jaemin and receives a deep kiss as a gratitude for the encouragement.

On especially bad days where Jeno is so angry at things he can’t quite describe, he lets Dain light a cigarette for him. It’s another quality that sets the security rooms apart from the upstairs building, Jeno had never seen cigarettes up there and it seemed unnecessary when happiness was almost guaranteed but it did help stop the bouncing of his knee. 

Dain was most certainly at least six years older than Jeno when they were alive, she barely changes her expression and Jeno only ever sees her at the dining table on the rare occasions where Jaemin makes something with no meat in it.

They have a strange bond where they don’t talk much yet Jeno always finds himself refreshed after having sat with her in silence for a couple hours. The fact that the smoking room is far from any of the other rooms also helps, but Jeno knows it’s mostly thanks to her. 

“Are you and sunshine kid dating?” She asks one afternoon when Jeno steps on the butt of his cig. 

“Uh, yeah? Why?”

“Hm, I don’t know. Feels good to date someone and not get beaten up for it, doesn’t it?”

Jeno examines her profile for a long time, perplexed. 

“Of course. I really like him so it wouldn’t be good if someone was giving him hell for, well, me.”

“Right.” She grits and lets the smoke come out of her nostrils instead of her mouth. “I also think it’s a good thing.”

Jeno finds himself clinging to Jaemin that day more than usual, anxiously, wondering things Jaemin can’t really answer because all of his memories from his days on earth are gone and he barely even remembers when the year he died was. He doesn't remember the month anymore, but Jeno is thankful that he himself does. He remembers everything about Jaemin magically manifesting into his non-life.

Jaemin holds him close when they are laying on Jeno’s bed. They’re still wearing their uniforms, but Jeno has his back pressed against the cold wall so the balance is almost perfect.

“What do you want to eat tomorrow?” Jaemin asks quietly, a hand on Jeno’s hair and the other tightly secured around his waist.

“What’s your favorite food?” Jeno asks back, smiling when Jaemin laughs. 

“You.”

“That’s dessert, Nana, you can’t share me with everyone else.”

“True, true.” Jeno feels the kisses Jaemin leaves on the crown of his head and curses the fact that he can’t really see him doing so. “I’ll make potato pizza tomorrow for everyone and then save all the Jeno Lee for myself.”

He doesn’t sleep much, too many things still on his mind, but Jaemin does and it’s a pleasant surprise to discover he can only sleep with his face buried in Jeno’s neck, even when the heat makes his forehead sweet. 

Jeno makes Jaemin coffee in the morning and he looks all kinds of delighted about it as he sips happily from the large mug and compliments Jeno’s abilities, so waking up early so he can be the first to brew coffee becomes another fixture of his daily routine.

Mostly, the days blend with each other until Jeno is dragged around by a skittish Jaemin that shyly hands him a tiny box with a ribbon on top of it and he frowns down at it. 

“Birthday boy.” Jaemin laughs. “Don’t tell me you forgot.” Jeno opens his mouth before he checks his watch. It hadn’t been that long since he begged Jungwoo to bring him peaches and strawberries from upstairs for Jaemin’s own birthday. 

“Maybe.” He confesses and then kisses Jaemin tenderly. “Thank you for not forgetting.”

“I’m scared we might forget about important days.” Jaemin says and his eyes fall a little, become a little less bright. “We still have a long way to go.”

“It’s okay, if we forget we can simply make up new ones. I’m not even entirely sure this is my actual birthday from earth or if the guys just started using it as an excuse to ask for beer at the cafeteria.”

“Yeah, we can make up new ones.” Jaemin gives in, but he doesn’t sound entirely convinced. 

Jeno decides to let it go for now and instead, he focuses on opening his present with a smile already breaking his face in half. 

He had tried to bake a cake with the strawberries and peaches for Jaemin’s birthday, but banana bread seemed to be the peak of his culinary career and he didn’t exactly had five nights of trial and error before he could finally get the cake right, so he had made whipped cream and boiled the fruits. It had been enough to make Jaemin jump in excitement, but that had never been a difficult task to achieve.

“Oh… Oh, Nana, how..?” He picks up the notebook that rests over a couch of bright paper and examines it carefully, turning it over and over, too scared to open it only to find his own handwriting there.

“Jungwoo didn’t want to talk to Renjun because that goes against the rules if he’s no causing trouble, so I had to report Donghyuck for something stupid and send Jungwoo to scare him a little and also, well, ask him if he could convince Jisung to let go of at least one of your belongings.” 

Jeno puts the box under his armpit so he can use both hands to open the notebook. It’s all there, of course, yellowed pages but everything else remains untouched. There’s a rough story-line for Jaemin’s movie in one of the last written pages. 

“You didn’t have to.” He says and he feels a bit like crying. His dessert doesn’t hold a candle to this.

“Oh, Jeno, you’re saying it as if I wouldn’t give up everything for you.” Jaemin coos, cupping Jeno’s cheeks with his warm hands. 

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, you better not.” 

“Alright, alright.” Jaemin kisses his nose. “None of that giving up everything until we can give up everything together.” 

Dain gives Jeno his own box of cigarettes and a white lighter in the afternoon, she even musters a smile when Jeno stares at her in disbelief. 

He still has his own old emergency lighter on the pocket of his hoodie, but the white one quickly becomes his favorite.

“Jaemin told me.” She explains.

“Of course he did.”

“He also said he’s doing pork ribs for dinner, so don’t expect me to be there.”

Jeno opens his new box, forgets again that he should ask Dain where she gets the cigs from so he can maybe convince her to sneak something for Jaemin next time. 

“It’s okay. This is, uh, this is good enough. Thank you.”

She gives him a look that he can’t quite read as they both smoke quietly. These are different from the ones Dain usually has for herself and it feels even more special to think she went out of her way to choose something different that she believed Jeno would like. 

“You’re a sad kid, Lee Jeno,” Dain complains as she picks another stick from her own box. “Sad little child, I wonder how you died.”

“I don’t really remember.” Jeno hurries to explain, touches his cheek as if the attribute of sadness was something written all over his face that he could erase with his fingertips. “We’re all a little sad down here; you especially, but I feel like you’re really angry.”

“Yeah.” She sighs dramatically. Jeno can almost see her as a black and white actress, maybe dramatic theater on the side. “I hate that sunshine kid pretends like he isn’t.”

“Well, he-” Jeno looks down at his fingers, cigarette carefully balanced in between them. “He was angry all the time, back when he was alive. Sad, too, but I feel like anger was the base of that. He got all the beating he isn’t getting in here and he let himself drown in his own anger. I think he’s mostly compensating.”

Dain lets herself stare at Jeno openly, eyes worried. “Did he do it himself?”

“Uh, no, actually.” Jeno smokes, his hands are trembling. “I think he wanted to, deep down, but he got sick and refused to get help. I guess that’s kind of the same, but it really says something when someone would rather die painfully slow instead of, you know, end it quickly.”

“Wow.”

“Oh, sorry, that sounded so dramatic.” Jeno laughs tensely and Dain smiles a little.

“It’s okay, it’s kinda cool that you know him so well. That way you can have an explanation for every little thing he does.”

Jeno shakes his head. “Man, how I wish I could.”

The day ends with pork ribs like Dain had professed and people making a point to try and strike a conversation with him as Jaemin cooks. Jeno feels lightheaded and fuzzy, he walks on his tiptoes in case the floor crumbles right under him the way it does when he starts to feel elated with happiness and he closes his fingers tightly around his box of cigarettes as if they were a land-line safely stored inside his pocket.

When Jaemin steps out of his uniform at the end of the evening, back turned back to Jeno as he looks for a short to sleep in inside the tall wardrobe they both share, Jeno allows himself a second to stare. 

“I love you.” He says, vision blurry. 

“Well, glad I took off my clothes so you could be reminded of this very fact.” Jaemin is smiling, Jeno can hear it. 

He grabs a shirt and puts it on too quickly, his head gets stuck and Jeno laughs before he clubs off the bed to help him untangle himself. 

“I love you too.” Jaemin whispers once Jeno manages to help him get his head through.

“Yeah?”

“So much.”

“That’s good then, that’s the best birthday present actually.”

Jeno dreams of blue books and little pieces of a movie that he didn’t get to see. Jaemin laughs at him for squeezing him all night and Jeno pretends he has no idea what Jaemin is talking about.

“Hey, little acorn.” 

Jaemin has a new habit of nuzzling his cheek before giving him a kiss, maybe two if he’s feeling generous. Jeno smiles, happy to have an excuse to drag his tired eyes away from the screen and makes sure all of Jaemin’s kisses land in his mouth.

Before, Jeno would worryingly glance around the room, scanning for the heavy stares that were never actually there, but Jaemin has always had a way of taking all of his camp of view by simply being there. His hair is messy and he has folded the end of his sleeves up to his elbows so Jeno doesn’t even get the chance to spare a single look to his environment before his eyes are drawn to Jaemin again.

“Hey, you.” He whispers back. “Where were you? Didn’t see you this morning.”

“Oh, well-” When Jeno moves his chair back, Jaemin sits on his lap. It’s a welcomed weight, but Jeno’s legs are already a little numb from all the time spent sitting and he would rather walk, even if they only get to walk around the office and then back to his desk. “I was actually watching some of the old recordings. I had no idea how many cameras there were around this place, it’s actually a bit scary.”

“Scary? Why? Were you indulging in some questionable activities when we were out there?” 

He’s smiling and Jaemin is too, but Jaemin’s smile doesn't have all of his teeth in it, so Jeno holds him a little closer. He isn’t worried just yet but now he feels more alert, insides a little tense.

“Of course not- or, I mean, you’d know.” Jaemin moves his hand to carefully put a revel strand of hair in Jeno’s fringe back in place. “We were together all the time.”

“Okay.” Jeno cranes his neck until he can get a good look at Jaemin’s face but it’s still just as hard to read him as it has always been. “What did you find then?”

“I-” He looks around, but of course nobody is watching. “Hey, are you busy?” 

It’s an odd thing to ask, to say the least. The job is painfully bland, souls usually behave well enough that intervention isn’t necessary and people at the office cling to gossip like flowers cling to sunlight because it is the closest thing to connect to the outside that most of them would ever get. Jeno isn’t supposed to leave his desk, but the chances of someone doing anything about him getting up are rather scarce and he would much rather follow Jaemin to the depths of hell than sit on his office chair for another four hours.

“Not for you.” 

Jaemin’s face softens, it finally occurs to Jeno that he’s nervous, tense, held up-tight by the very thing that he hides behind his droopy eyes. “Of course not for me.” 

They don’t sneak out of the main room, but they do keep their mouths tightly shut until they’re both out the door and halfway into the hallway that leads back to the dorms before Jeno gives Jaemin a look. 

“Where are we going exactly?”

Jaemin looks past him again and Jeno has to resist the urge to turn around and check if there's something behind him. 

“I’m tired, come sleep with me?”

Jeno blinks a couple times, dumbfounded. “Right. Sure, yeah.”

Jaemin grabs the tip of his fingers and guides Jeno back into their shared room as if Jeno had never been there. It makes him feel clumsy as he trips on air, hands sweaty and mouth like stuffed in invisible cotton. 

Usually, Jaemin is more discreet with his requests, soft touches and lingering fingers, maybe whispering, but never kidnapping Jeno from his office and dragging him back to their room. 

“Everything okay?” Jeno asks when Jaemin fastens the lock behind his back and stares at him intently, still leaning against the closed door.

“Will you go out with me?”

“Nana?” Jeno says, titles his head again and presses a hand against Jaemin’s forehead. “We’re boyfriends.” The word itself makes his fingers tingle, still.

“Out… _out._ ”

Jeno scans his face for what feels like forever, hands on Jaemin’s neck and then on his shoulders.

“No.”

“Jen-”

“Jaemin, if you get fired and vanished because I said I missed my friends that one time, I am not going to forgive myself. It’s fine! I can see them through the screens, they’re fine; Jisung’s a little gloomy but that’s about it!”

“Where did all your sense of adventure go? You never really cared about the dumb rules and getting fired. I honestly couldn’t care less if I disappear as long as we get to do something worth the trouble before that happens.”

“Are you listening to yourself?” He doesn’t want to yell but he feels it, the panic, it rarely manages to blur his senses but it is one of Jaemin’s charms to be able to dismantle all of his calculated self-defenses. “I do care! I do care whether you will just- stop existing or get to exist forever, it’s really not a tough choice for me. Sorry I’m boring now.”

“Jen, you’re not boring.”

“We’re not sneaking out. You said it yourself just a second ago: there are more cameras than we ever thought there were and-”

“I already did it and it was fine!”

“What.” It’s not really a question.

“Sorry! I should have told you, but I wanted to make sure it was okay before I took you out and now I know the way to just, like, move in ways so you’re always standing on the blind-spots so they can’t scan your face and it’s actually not that hard! I mean it! You know I wouldn’t simply throw you out there and hope for the best, so-”

“But you went and did it. You went and tried it out yourself first. On your own.”

“Well, yes and no. I asked one of the girls in your office and she was actually sweet, I think she likes me so let’s not tell her about us- regardless...”

“Jaemin, I’m really angry at you right now.” Yet his voice sounds serene, almost mellow.

“I know! I know, but I also know that all that anger is gonna melt away when you finally get to breathe the fake yet good air from the outside world! I actually miss the strawberries and the clouds, I’m sure even if they find out, they’re not gonna fire us for having a stupid date.” 

Jeno doesn’t say another word until it’s night time again and Jaemin is preparing a backpack for them to take out. It’s quiet outside which means the last person is finally in their room and nobody is out there to see them break the laws yet again. 

“Sure you don’t wanna take anything else? I know I said no phones, but I know you have the notebook with the unsent letters and all that.”

“It’s fine.” Jeno looks down at his hands and they’re not shaking, but he feels like they should be.

“Right. Okay, you good? Everything ready?”

“Sure.” He closes his fingers into fists and hopes for the best, which is something he has come to accept as a part of his after life when it comes to Jaemin.

There are four cameras on the dorm’s hallways that Jaemin had carefully marked out in a rough map he had made of the entire building the day before, after he had gone out on his own. The cameras move slowly, always in different directions to ensure the blind spots are reduced to a minimum, but Jaemin had explained that one of them has a rusty articulation and that none of them are advanced enough to detect movement. Jeno doesn’t ask where he got that much information from because he can already guess. 

They walk calculated meters away from each other, always keeping their heads low and hoping they never have to directly look up and risk being met with a lens eye to eye as they make their way into the shared lounge. 

Jeno feels every muscle contracting and never relax again until he can faintly hear Jaemin’s steps behind him. When it comes to sneaking out of the area that is known for being the one where all security is being constantly monitored, reaching one location barely feels like doing anything at all. The planned path is not even halfway done and Jeno already feels like he needs to touch Jaemin and make sure he’s still all in one piece.

“Alright, you know where to go next,” Jaemin says so quietly Jeno almost misses it. His ears are ringing, he can hear his blood pounding inside his head and his legs are aching. 

“Of course.” He reassures Jaemin, making a point of keeping his tone flat.

Jaemin had also explained that the waiting room outside Kunhang’s office was probably the only room in the entire building without cameras on every corner. It felt a little anticlimactic to walk back in there and sit down on the familiar couch just to catch his breath after carefully keeping all of his movements and breaths counted on his head.

“Well-” He starts before Jaemin jumps at him and puts a hand on his mouth. Jeno frowns. 

They both stay perfectly still until the faint sounds coming from Kunhang’s office are easily classified as soft snores. Kunhang’s dorm is the first one on the hallway of the patrollers, Jaemin had told Jaemin once that Jungwoo slept right next to him and that he hated all the noise Kunhang would make at night. 

“He’s sleeping,” Jaemin confirms, but he doesn’t let go of Jeno’s face. “But he might wake up if we open the door, what do we do?” 

It’s the first time in a while that Jaemin turns to give Jeno a scared look. There’s something entirely too altruistic about Jaemin, something that makes him want to help a lot more than be helped. He holds Jeno’s hands and bows to never let anything bother him for too long, but the moment Jeno tries to stand in front of him, Jaemin simply smiles and dismisses any of his struggles. 

It’s a long time coming fight that they’re yet to have and Jeno feels bubbly and light as he grabs Jaemin’s wrist and slowly peels his clamped hand away from his mouth. 

“He won’t.” He tells Jaemin, because that’s exactly what he wants to hear. “Today was an easy week so he told me he would try to reorganize our files, he must be exhausted.”

“Dead people don’t need sleep.” Jaemin turns to look at the door of Kunhang’s office with fear, it really feels like Jeno is meeting him all over again. “He’s just forcing himself and he can force himself out of slumber, right? We do that all the time.”

“Relax.” Jeno insists. “He won’t.”

Jaemin is still looking at the door, bottom lip between his teeth and it’s endearing in the worst of ways, Jeno shouldn’t be distracted now out of all times but maybe adrenaline makes his brain even more prone to become unfocused. 

“Okay.” Jaemin whispers. “Okay, let’s go.”

They close the door leading to the last hall with enough steadiness to defuse a bomb and even after the door is fully closed, Jaemin still stands there, frozen, waiting for Kunhang to simply rise from his desk, open the two doors that now stand between them and laugh at their faces for even attempting to escape. 

“It’s fine. Nobody’s here.” 

“I know, let’s go, the cameras will change positions now.”

The last hall, thin and poorly lit, feels as long as Jeno expected it to feel. He had never been back there after he was brought in, never had a chance to carefully examine how the middle tiles seem to be dirtier due to the overuse and how the walls have thin lines of darned paint from people probably walking with their arms held up at each side of their body, fingers touching each wall. 

Jaemin is walking in front of him now and Jeno feels more secure this way, he can see everything Jaemin is doing and he doesn’t have to wait for his footsteps to know he’s close by. 

It makes sense that he had wanted Jeno to walk in front for the first half. 

Somewhere down the line, while Jeno peeks at one of the cameras facing away from them and worried that they might be walking too slowly, Jaemin starts feeling the wall with both of his hands. 

“You don’t know where the door is?”

“Jeno, shh, I know it’s somewhere around here. Quiet.”

“What if we already walked past it!”

“Jeno, we didn’t, be quiet now.”

Jeno looks at the camera again and then at Jaemin, if they try to get to the other side of the wall now, they will be caught, but there’s a small sliver of time where he could push Jaemin right under the camera’s blind spot if necessary. He braces himself.

“Here! See? Told you so.” Jaemin pushes the wall, and the door opens without a struggle.

“There’s only two cameras out there and they should be changing positions any moment now. You doing okay?”

“I think I’m about to be sick.” Jeno confesses, but it’s not really that bad.

“Good. I knew you’d be excited.”

In reality, Jeno wasn’t actually expecting to get this far. Even when things were going just fine, he had been waiting for someone to simply walk on them since the beginning, walkie-talkie in hand and ready to report them back to Kunhang. 

Jaemin smiles as Jeno takes the deepest breath he can muster. In and out. The air is at the perfect temperature, as it should be. 

The peak feels too good to be true and his head is spinning even before they reach the bathrooms to take a moment to collect themselves before they go out again. Jeno’s still gasping for air and he feels jumpy, anxious, the expectations are set too high and he’s scared he might crash even harder now, if things get ruined in the end.

Jaemin washes his face with cold water and groans, happy to be able to speak in a normal voice instead of in whispers. 

“The guys are probably sleeping.” Jeno reasons, already feeling his insides starting to tank. 

“They would want to be up to see you.”

“It’s pretty late, though.”

“Jen,” Jaemin puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, tight. “They want to see you.”

“Right, right, where are we meeting again?”

It’s better to spend the most amount of time apart from each other with the cameras that can detect movement. If one of them gets caught, it gives the other some time to make a run for it, although Jeno would probably run straight into danger where he knows Jaemin would be and he knows Jaemin would do the exact same for him. 

Still, he understands if Jaemin wants to spend some time alone before they meet for a date on the fields and then right back to where they came from. It actually makes him feel a bit better to know Jisung would probably jump at his arms without having to be embarrassed about Jaemin looking at them. 

The idea of Jisung, cold and shy, a bit distant and too much of a teenager Jisung jumping at Jeno for a hug actually makes his stomach sink a little deeper. 

“Front doors of the viewing room. There are four cameras there but it’s actually the one meeting point with the least amount of cameras.” He sighs. He still has his hand on Jeno’s shoulder and he doesn’t seem ready to let go just yet. “Don’t come for me if I get caught.”

“You know I will.” Jeno says, but that’s not what Jaemin wants to hear.

“Yeah.” He lets go, moves to grab his backpack again. “Just be careful then.” 

He makes sure at least five minutes have gone by after Jaemin is gone before he steps outside himself. Opposite direction to where Jaemin is probably going, heading to the dorms and trying to think of what to say. 

He has to be extra careful now, completely quiet and completely still more often than not. It doesn’t help the fact that he’s already shaking by the time he reaches his and Jisung’s old room, but Jeno has already formulated a short speech inside his head, another one for Renjun, some advice for Chenle and what kind of hug to give to Donghyuck. 

He stops walking every time he hears a noise, but he knows only half of the patrollers are to be making rounds at night and it’s very unlikely he will run into any of them without hearing them first. He’s too tense, Jaemin would tell him to relax. 

The door to his room is closed, something that Jeno has come to be accustomed to and he feels tempted to knock even though Jaemin advised him against making any kind of disruptive noise. He leans in, ear against the wood, and hopes for the deep breaths Jisung takes when he’s deeply asleep.

“You’re using the wrong semitone again!” He hears instead, hushed and high-pitched. Chenle. “w _ǒ_ _du_ _ì_ _-_ _”_

“w _ǒ_ _du-i_ ” Jisung tries to repeat, slowly.

“No!” Chenle laughs and it comes out muffled as if he was trying to hide it behind something. Jisung is laughing too. “w _ǒ_ _du_ _ì_ _n_ _ǐ_ _g_ _ǎ_ _n x_ _ì_ _ngqu_ ”

“I said that and you told me it was the wrong tone!”

“You did not say that, Jisung, you did not.”

Jeno remembers that he’s supposed to move. He should be inside already but something thicker than the door itself prevents him from doing so. 

Jisung has never been one to have friends over at their dorm, he simply spent time with his friends outside and complained if Jeno had someone over, if it was always Renjun or Donghyuck. The air feels heavy and Jeno moves because he has to, but mostly because he feels like his presence would break it and then neither of them would be able to put it back together. 

He grabs his notebook clumsily so he can quickly rip out a page that he knows belongs to Jisung and carefully slides it under the door before scrambling away for good. He wishes Renjun had taught him more Chinese.

He decides, even if he longs for their touch and the sound of their voices, he won’t put his friends in danger by barging into their rooms. He would have enough just with listening to their quiet breaths, the sound of their tired voices or even Donghyuck’s video games. The sound is always too loud, even when he’s wearing noise-canceling headphones. 

He makes sure to add extra notes to his letters before he slips them under his friend’s door, and he also makes a point of running away quickly in case they’re awake to notice the paper and decide to come to investigate. 

It makes him feel a bit more at ease knowing that his friends will at least wake up to a pleasant surprise rather than be awakened into hiding Jeno in their rooms and risking some degree of punishment themselves. He would probably tell Jaemin that everything went right as they had planned, but he had to worry about meeting Jaemin in the first place for now. 

He will know if the camera caught him because they would let out a soft beep and because he will hear the steps of the patrollers hurrying to check in on the disturbance. Jungwoo might be one of them, but Jeno knew Jungwoo usually took the daily shifts. 

His back starts to ache before he can even reach the viewing room, it feels a little too risky to meet there and Jeno would rather have Jaemin waiting outside where he knows the cameras can’t distinguish between a grasshopper and a pair of kids laying on top of the freshly cut grass to stare at the stars. Maybe he’s just too anxious. 

“Hey.” Jaemin says, sitting down in front of the door with a tiny smile on his face and his legs crossed. He looks tiny. “You made it.”

“Of course I did.” Jeno leans in to kiss Jaemin’s forehead and basks in the small sound Jaemin makes. The cameras don’t detect any movement. “Ready?”

“Actually-” Jaemin starts to say and Jeno already has his mouth open to deny any further requests when his watch vibrates against his wrist. 

He has no time to think before he drags Jaemin inside the viewing room in one swift movement. The doors are never locked. 

“Wow, okay, I’d take it as a yes.”

“What?” Jeno is a little out of breath. He isn’t sure where the cameras are in this room in particular.

“I was going to ask you if we could come in. I’ve actually never been here since, well, you know. Never got the chance.”

Jeno looks around with his hand still tightly closed around Jaemin’s arms. He looks at the corners and at the unions between the roofs and the walls. He can’t see the tiny lenses and no sound has alerted of their presence yet, but he doesn't want to trust too easily.

“Relax, Jen, there are no cameras in here.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You said you’ve never been here.”

“Indeed, but I work with this section of the cameras. I’d know if I had a first-row view of how souls get sent on their merry way to happily ever after.”

“Oh, right.”

The viewing room feels more familiar to Jeno than most fixtures of the entire building. Even the library or his own room don’t give him the warm feeling of sitting on the front orchestra seats and looking up at the big screen. 

Jaemin is oddly quiet, walking around with his hand against the walls and his back to Jeno. It’s been far too long since he got to see someone else share the space of the viewing room with him, hundreds of red seats, tall balconies adorned in gold and more red gave the place the warmest feeling, even when it never hosted too many people at once.

Jeno looks at his watch and decides they can stay for a bit longer, there’s still a long while before the sun comes out and Jaemin looks way too mesmerized with the golden details and the velvet curtains for him to interrupt. 

“You never got to see your movie on the big screen.” It’s not really a question but Jeno still feels like he has to answer.

“Well, we wouldn’t be here if I had.”

“So this is all it takes?” Jaemin turns and starts walking back to where Jeno is sitting, on the front row. “Souls sit and watch the movie and then they’re gone? That’s a bit anticlimactic.” 

“It’s peaceful.” Jeno says, suddenly feeling defensive. “Some people come here really troubled so it’s only fair, I guess, that they get to leave without any further struggle.”

“And me?” Jeno turns to look at him and Jaemin looks a bit pale but it’s hard to tell when most of the lights are off. 

“What about you? You deserved a peaceful goodbye and you could have gotten it but, well...”

“No.” Jaemin shakes his head and Jeno feels his heartache. Jaemin is tiny again, too small. “No, I didn’t deserve that. Stop, don’t give me that look, I really didn’t but you still wanted to change my whole past just so I could be worth it. I’m so sorry.”

“Nana? What’s wrong? Come here.”

Jeno jumps off his seat and hugs Jaemin tightly against his chest. So tight the two of them might burst, but he doesn’t really mind as long as Jaemin stops trying to blink tears away from his round eyes. 

“Why are you sorry? I wouldn’t want to spend eternity with anyone else. There, there.”

It takes Jaemin a long time to even out his breath again, Jeno fears they might step outside to find the sun already shining bright in the sky, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t really care about anything else.

He still wants Jaemin to see the stars, so he peels himself away and lets Jaemin straighten himself. 

“I think we still have time to see some constellations.”

“Yeah.” His smile is watery, but Jeno will take it for now. “Let’s go.”

It would never make sense, in Jeno’s mind, because he doesn’t get enough time to process the chain of events that lead to him looking down at his watch as they wait for the cameras to turn and then having his heart stop when Jaemin opens the door before it’s time. 

“Jaemin.”

The door closes right against his nose and Jeno winces. “Jaemin? Jaemin!”

“Be quiet.” Jaemin begs from outside as Jeno bangs the door. They don’t have locks and Jeno is heavier than Jaemin so he shouldn’t struggle so much with opening it, yet he feels like he’s pushing against thick metal. “Please.”

He hears the zip of Jaemin’s backpack opening and closing, the sound of a key turning inside a lock. The clogs inside his brain turn, but he can’t think of anything.

“What are you doing? Did you lie? Jaemin, did you lie to me?” He’s out of breath and he can see it now, the floor crumbling beneath his feet as he pushes and pushes against the door. 

“Yes.” Jaemin says, but that’s the actual lie, Jeno can tell. “I did. I’m sorry. Be quiet.”

“What you mean? Jaemin, please, are you mad? Why are you lying? Let me out, Jaemin, I’d go anywhere you want. Please.”

He hears a beep coming from outside and his knees give up. 

“Oh. The cameras.”

“Jeno, it’s fine. Sorry, I did lie. I’m sorry, it’s okay if you’re mad.”

The next sound covers him with something that brings too many memories back for it to sound so terrifying now. Jeno cranes his neck a little and the light of the screen makes his eyes hurt.

“No-”

“Jeno, is it on? Oh, they’re coming. This better be quick.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t! You wouldn’t.” He realizes he’s furiously crying when his voice breaks and his throat starts to close up. His nose is stuffed and he can’t breathe. The viewing room feels too big and imposing. “You can’t, you can’t do that. No! Jaemin, open the door. Jaemin I’ll never forgive you. Jaemin.”

“I know. Sorry.”

In the movie, Jeno wakes up softly, light hitting his eyelids as he rests with his arms and head over a school desk. He’s wearing a yellow uniform.

Jeno examines the classroom on the screen and decides there’s no way he could remember if any of this was ever in his book anyway. It’s definitely not the movie Taeyong made for Jaemin himself, so it’s something custom made for Jeno. 

“I don’t want it Jaemin. I don’t want it. Please.”

“Shh, you’re fine. You’re gonna be fine.”

He doesn’t get enough time to wonder when was that Jaemin decided to make a movie behind his back. Who helped him with it and who approved of his script. He tries to count every faint memory he has of Jaemin when he was still working upstairs and nothing makes sense, every memory is blurry. 

Outside, the sound of multiple boots hitting the floor is distracting, it keeps him from being able to make any sense of what the Jeno in the movie is saying.

He’s shaking, his whole body trembling and voice hoarse as he begs Jaemin to open the door once more.

Next thing he knows, a door opens and Jeno looks up, desperate.

“There you are,” Jaemin says, taking off his own yellow overcoat and folding it over his arm. He’s only wearing a white button-up underneath, the tie already loose around his long neck. “Let’s go? Mom says you can stay over for dinner if you want.”

Jeno blinks in confusion. The sun is setting outside the window and his arms are numb from all the time he spent resting his head over them. He has homework for tomorrow and he knows staying over at Jaemin’s will not help getting it done. He feels out of air and uncomfortable, sweaty under his uniform.

“Gah, I hate the summer.”

And he does, because even without all the sweating and the long hours before the sun sets, the summer always makes him feel a bit melancholic. He looks at the clear skies and it almost feels like he longs for something that’s up there and that cannot reach. His mother had always said he was a bit too dramatic.

“It’s not summer yet.” Jaemin corrects and leans against the door frame while Jeno picks up his belongings. 

The golden hour makes Jaemin look a bit tanner, dark hair a bit shinier than it actually is. 

“Whatever. I had a nightmare, so don’t let me sleep on the desk again.”

“A nightmare?” Jaemin laughs and Jeno gives him a deep frown. “Sorry, sorry! It’s just funny, I hadn’t had scary dreams since I was a kid. What happened? Monsters under your bed?” 

“No.” Jeno protests, stepping out of the classroom and letting Jaemin walk next to him at a slow but steady pace. “I don’t know actually, but it was pretty bad: my heart was racing and I still have a really bad headache. Like, falling off a seventh-floor kinda bad.”

“Do you now?” Jaemin teases again, swinging an arm over Jeno’s shoulders and pulling some of his weight on Jeno. “Probably dreamed about failing the monthly evaluation.”

“Ugh, stop, don’t even remind me about it. SM should cut us some slack. My knee still hurts.”

“Now, now, how are you going to become a superstar when you cry over every little thing?”

Jeno pouts and Jaemin promises to pay for his bus ticket to make him feel better. 

He touches his chest, then, heart still heavy under his ribs and head still aching behind his eyes, and decides that Jaemin’s mom’s food is all he really needs right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Thank you so much for reading, I'm not too big on... letting others see my work, so it's all a bit weird still. I'm actually glad I could finish this and I already miss writing about these boys so very much.
> 
> Also, I noticed, since I mostly wrote half of this in two weeks and the other half in a whole different week, months apart from each other- that some parts of the end feel disconnected. I thought about simply rewriting the whole thing, but there's a beauty to the messiness that I'd like to keep. Sorry about that!
> 
> See you on the next one, I guess.
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/jaeminsbabysock)


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